Five Words

Fate always seems to have a strange way of balancing out the bad with the good.  It works the other way around, too; finally, after so many years of pushing and trying and failing to find some semblance of happiness, he had finally found paradise.

Three little words had changed his life, had blown him away and given him something he thought impossible.  Three little words that meant so much he wanted to laugh and cry and so much more, all in one go.

“I love you.”

Eyes that pierced into his very soul staring down at him, blonde hair plastered across a sweat-drenched forehead as perfect lips parted to release a series of gasping moans.  They moved together, creating a harmony that only they could hear, singing out to the heavens in joyous rapture.  It was perfect.  Too perfect.

Two words changed his life, destroyed him, broke him down and made him want to cry.  He had finally found his own perfect existence, and now it was all going to be ripped away from him, because of something no one had any control over.

“It’s terminal.”

He asked how long he had left, they said months.  Six, if he was lucky.  The cancer was growing rapidly, too fast to treat, too fast to cure.  They could slow it, give him a few extra weeks, but it would mean remaining in the hospital for what little time he had left.  He didn’t want that, couldn’t bear the thought of being confined within those walls.  It was like a prison, the smells, the noise, he hated it.  He politely declined, then left.

Home was empty when he returned.  Of course it would be, he knew it would.  Crawling into bed, the pillows muffled his anguished screams as he cried out in frustration and pain.  Hours later, as the last few tears spilled from swollen eyes, a warm body crawled in beside him.

“What’s wrong?”

Soft, gentle and oh so loving.  He couldn’t tell him, couldn’t break his heart.  Nothing was wrong, nothing at all.  Just a bad day, is all.  It’ll all be better in the morning.  They kiss, moving together, a dance that was so familiar and yet never dull.  They make love again, as they always do, and fall asleep listening to each other’s heartbeats.

He deteriorated faster than the doctors had anticipated, faster than he had wanted.  It was kept hidden, of course, the sudden tiredness and headaches explained away easily.  It was a cold, some sort of stomach bug, anything and everything but the truth.  Everything was fine, until he collapsed in the supermarket, violent tremors wracking his body.  When he awoke, surrounded by the stench of bleach and chrome, familiar blue eyes staring down at him, hurt and worried and loving all at once.  Of course, he’d want to know why.  Why keep something like this from him?  He’d explained why, but...it wasn’t enough, not really.

Within a week, he was at death’s door.  Eyes that had once sparkled like the ocean stared from sunken eye sockets.  His pale skin had turned almost translucent, red hair now limp and lifeless, flat against his scalp.  His lover remained with him always, holding his hand, kissing his dry lips and chattering away like everything was going to be alright.

“James...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment it was the first time all over again.  He managed a small, shy smile and a weak squeeze of the hand holding his.  They were together, right to the end, just like they’d promised. 

Hartley closed his eyes for the last time, and drifted off to sleep.