((Warnings: Mentions of Death, Mentions of Illness, Angst, Rushed writing. Tell me if there is more. This was based in the late 1700s. Hope I did okay, enjoy. ))

The old paint brush slides across the canvas with ease, the oil paint gleaming against the old brush and the wooden palate. The many different colored paints lay a top of it as the brush rests in the hands of the beautiful picture's creator.

The painter sighs, looking at their creation as they glanced up at the reference they used for the painting, the grass sways in the wind as the painter closed their eyes, breathing in deeply, a surge of calm and peace relaxing them as they didn't seem to notice the person walking up behind them.

"That is a lovely work of art, (Y/n)." Said a voice that the painter knew all too well, They turned around, taking notice of the dark hair that was pulled back into a very small pony tail and the glasses that were placed on the bridge of the man's nose.

"Ah, Why thank you, Doctor Logan." (Y/n) said, mimicking the same formal, emotionless tone the man used. Though it wasn't hurtful, it was more of a joking matter.

"Ah, But you forget, Dear painter, Physician  in training, I have yet to become one." Logan stated, his lips barely tugging up into a tiny smile, a smile that anyone wouldn't be able to catch if they weren't paying attention.

(Y/n) smiled widely, setting their paint brush aside as they walked up to Logan, wrapping their arms around him in a long overdue hug.

"It's been so long, Logan, It's good to finally see you again." They mumbled as Logan himself snaked his arms around the painter, sighing in content as he remembered just how much he had missed his childhood friend.

"I know. Believe me, (Y/n), I know. It has been so stressful being away from you for so long. I can't seem to convince myself that I'm actually here now." He murmured, his head setting on (Y/n's) shoulder as he squeezed them tightly.

The two had known each other for years, ever since they were kids, but Logan as he grew older wanted to become a doctor, to help people. So he went off to learn medicine, and has been gone for quite some time, although he never failed to send letters to (Y/n).

(Y/n) smiled warmly at him as they pulled away from the hug, slightly. Forgetting all about their painting behind them. They looked at Logan, taking in the sight of him as they couldn't help but grin.

"Is something the matter, (Y/n)?" Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow up as he watched (Y/n) step away from him, and circle around him, a hand on their chin as they gazed over him; deep in thought.

"Ah, No, Not really, Although I must admit." They said, waving his question off as their eyes looked Logan up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance. "You've changed, Lo. Quite a bit."

"Ah, Have I now?" Logan asked, letting out a small; barely noticeable, breathy chuckle. He watched (Y/n) intently, twisting and peering over his shoulder to look at them as they kept circling around him.

"Oh yes, Very much so." They said, grinning at him as their eyes caught sight of his gaze on them, though he wasn't a very emotional man, his eyes held so much of that emotion he so desperately tried to hide.

"Would you mind elaborating for me, dear?" Logan asked, his eyebrow arched yet again in curiosity as his gaze tore away from (Y/n). His focus now on straight infront of him.

"Well, to start with, Your hair." (Y/n) stated, leaning on Logan's back as they rested their head on his right shoulder, their left hand coming up to play with his hair that was held up.

"My hair?" Logan asked, glancing to the side to look at (Y/n) from his peripheral vision.

"Yes, Your hair, It's longer. You've grown it out, I see." They said, their voice taking on a teasing tone as they stepped away from Logan, coming up to stand infront of him.

"Ah, Yes, I do hate it when it's longer, I prefer it shorter." He mumbled, his own hand coming up to tug at a loose strand of hair.

"Yet here it is, Longer than it has ever been."

"Why yes it is."

"And why is that, may I ask?" (Y/n) asked him, their eyes holding a gleam of confusion as they looked at him expectingly.

"Ah well, The barber we had didn't have a steady hand, besides, I trust no one else than you to cut my hair." Logan said, laughing a bit at the memory.

"Oh, so you left me with all the work, I see?" (Y/n) said teasingly, laughing a bit along with him.

"I suppose you could say that." Logan said, chuckling as (Y/n) stepped closer to him, their hand grazing his cheek lightly.

"And this scar? Where'd you get this? From the barber with an unsteady hand I assume." They said, Smiling as they stared at the small scar on his cheekbone.

"Hah, No, It's a funny story actually, I-" Logan stopped, just now noticing the close proximity between him and (Y/n), he swallowed, blinking as their eyes looked into his. "Well That-... that's a story for another time."

"..If you say so." (Y/n) mumbled, their eyes not seeming to be able to tear away from each other.

Logan's hands came up to rest ontop of (Y/n's) hand that was on his cheek, his words becoming more of a whisper than anything else.

"It's.. it's been unbearable without you, you know." He said, unknowing to how he was leaning towards them slightly.

"Really now? I would have thought any person such as yourself would be happy to be free, off and about, roaming the city to his heart's content, without having to give their attention to a painter like me." (Y/n) mumbled, gulping at how close the two were.

"Any other person, yes, but me, I-.. I don't seem to mind the thought of giving my attention to a painter like you.. as long as it is you who I am giving it to." Logan said, his grip tightening slightly on their hand.

"I- O-oh hush now- You don't know what you're saying." They said, trying to pull their hand away from his grip, though he held onto their hand, not giving them to chance to.

"Oh but I do, I am and always will be a man who means my words, and I do mean them. And here is this to prove it."  Logan said, before pulling (Y/n) into a kiss, both of their hearts thrumming inside their chests as they both stayed that way from the longest time before finally pulling away.

"So, do you b-" Logan started, only to be interrupted by (Y/n).

"Oh hush up and kiss me again."

                             •     •     •     •

"Do I have to stand here for much longer?" Logan asked, as he stood still, trying to peer around the canvas to look at (Y/n) as they took their time painting him.

"Not for too much longer, I'm almost finished." They said, grinning over at him, before telling him to stop squirming.

"I do hope you finish soon, my back and head aches terribly." Logan said, shivering a bit as he got the chills.

(Y/n's) eyebrows furrowed in worry as they glanced up at him, looking away from the portrait for a moment. "Are you ill?"

"Ah, no, I'm sure it's nothing, don't worry about me, Darling." Logan said, shaking his head slightly as he sighed. (Y/n) nodded.

"There! Finished! Come look and tell me what you think." They said, stepping away from the canvas, setting their brush into a glass jar, filled with water.

Logan stood up and walked over slowly, placing his arm around (Y/n's) shoulders as he looked at the painting intently. It was very well done, looking exactly like him, down to every last detail, his face showed no emotion on the portrait, yet his eyes seemed to be filled with them. It was truly magnificent, how (Y/n) could paint such and intricate piece.

"It's exquisite, I do often wonder how you could have such a talent. You'll be famous one day, My dear." Logan said, looking down at them with half-lidded eyes.

Now that (Y/n) got a closer look at him, they could tell how much he truly wasn't well. He was as weak as water. They placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, only to pull their hand away quickly.

"Lie down-! You're burning up-!" (Y/n) said, leading Logan over to the bed, practically pushing him down.

"I- Love, I'm fine, There's nothing to worry about.." Logan said, although he didn't sound so sure, himself. Though he didn't put up much of a fight, as he obeyed (Y/n's) orders and sat down.

"We need a doctor." They said, furrowing their eyebrows in worry, as they took the glasses off of Logan.

"There will be no need for that, I'm alright, I'm sure it's just a cold. Ngh-" He groaned, holding onto his head as he laid down, his headache seeming to get worse by the minute.

"See? You're in pain, we need the doctor." They objected, trying to talk since into him, as they rushed to get a wet rag to put on his forehead, hoping to cool his fever.

"I will not have it! We are not getting a doctor, I'm perfectly fine." Logan said, sitting up quickly, Only to wince and lay back down.

"...Fine.. but promise me, if you get any worse, we get a doctor." They compromised, fidgeting, trying to calm their worry.

Logan sighed, only silently nodding in agreement as he held a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sunlight coming in through the window.

(Y/n) sighed, sitting down infront of the bed, placing the rag on Logan's forehead, making sure he rests.

Only days had passed and Logan had gotten worse by the hour, his muscles were aching, he couldn't keep the food he ate, down, if he did eat, his fever had gotten worse, his skin and eyes were tented a bit with yellow and he was constantly in pain.

"Logan, Please-! Please let me get the doctor! I'm begging you!" (Y/n) pleaded, taking his weak hands in their own, rubbing them gently as if to comfort him, or, more so, themself.

"...I'm afraid.. a doctor wouldn't be any use..it's.. too late." He mumbled, barely finding strength in himself to speak.

"What-? No-! It's not too late! We can, call the doctor, and he can treat you, you can get better- you can- you-"

Logan shook his head lightly, shushing (Y/n) with a light small wave of his hand, looking up at them with a small weak smile.

"I love you.." He mumbled, his lips tugged into a tiny weak smile.

"I love you too..."

They museum guide stood infront of the portrait, the beautiful painting captivating all of the people that were following behind the guide. The history of when it was made seeming to draw them all in, as they gazed at the masterpiece.

"...What happened in the end-? To the lovers I mean." One person asked, curiously looking between the painting and the guide.

"Ah, The doctor died that day, of Yellow Fever, His Liver and Kidney failed, the infection in his organs killed him. The painter never left the painting, they stayed in their home and stared at the portrait. They too, Soon died, the grief overtook them. This was the last creation they ever made." The museum guide explained, they too stared at the portrait.

The intricate details weren't the only thing that had made the painting popular, it was the eyes on the portrait, the eyes that still seemed to hold emotion in them.

"This piece never got a name from it's creator, due to them dieing before they could ever name it. Thankfully many of the visitors that have come and seen the painting have found a name for it. Though it's quite a simple word, it seems to fit perfectly." The guide explained, stopping for a moment to admire the painting, even though they've seen it many times before, it still amazed them.

"...What is the name of the painting?" One of the visitors asked, the anticipation palpable as they waited for an answer.

"Love. The name of the painting, is Love." They said, smiling a bit as they sighed. "Now I'm afraid we need to get going, there are many other masterpieces to see." They said, walking along to continue the tour.

A few visitors stayed behind to look at the portrait one last time, admiring the beauty before they followed behind.

"It truly is a magnificent painting.."

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((Alright, So this is based in the time era of around the late 1700s where the 'Yellow Fever' outbreak happened, I don't know everything about this historical event, but I do know that it was it killed around 5,000 people in I believe 1793, or at least, that's when it started, this plague attacked the liver, Kidney and other internal organs, causing them to fail to function and potentially killing the person who had the illness. Sorry for a history lesson, just wanted to sum that up for anyone who wanted to know or was confused as to what disease Logan had gotten. But just a disclaimer, I don't have all the facts about this disease so please if I have gotten any of the information wrong please tell me and I'll try to fix it, this was all from research I did. So I'm not entirely sure if I got everything correct. Hope you enjoyed.))
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