Stuart Imagine:

You stood in the centre of the living room and blankly stared at the blank canvas standing before you. You weren't an artist. Stuart was the artist. And he was a damn good one.

But the striving artist was gone.

You didn't know how it happened.

You didn't know why it happened.

You just knew it happened.

You just knew that he was gone.

The love of your life was never coming back.

The brain hemorrhage was too strong.

And now you were in his apartment, standing in his living room an hour after you received the news, gazing at the white canvas in front of you. Though blank and emotionless on the outside, you were slowly breaking apart on the inside. Stuart was an artist that could see the art inside of everyone, even if they weren't artists. He could see the colours contrasting within the souls who didn't believe. He could see the masterpiece in you. He created so many beautiful pieces of art, and yet he called you the most gorgeous masterpiece he had ever seen.

But now that he was gone... the art inside you was shattered. The contrasting colours in your soul washed away. You were a broken masterpiece.

Stuart's best friend, John, stood behind you, watching you with empty eyes. His best friend was gone. He had cried out all his tears. Now he was concerned for you.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his voice sounding strange in the depressing and lonely silence of the apartment.

You turned around, and suddenly your heart was racing at a rapid pace.

"W-where are his paintings?" you croaked.

"His paintings?" John repeated with furrowed eyebrows.

"Where are they?" you gasped. "Why is there a blank canvas in here? Where are his paintings?"

"Y/N-"

"They aren't here!" you cried. "I can't see them anywhere! Where the hell are they? I need them, goddamnit! I need them!"

"Y/N, please-"

"THEY'RE ALL I HAVE LEFT!" you shrieked. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? THEY ARE ALL I HAVE LEFT! I NEED THOSE DAMN PAINTINGS!"

As you screamed about Stuart's paintings, the first round of tears spilled over your eyes, your cheeks becoming glossy and wet. This was the first time you cried after Stuart died.

John approached you and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly. You gasped for breath as a sob escaped your lips, your screaming coming to a slow stop.

"That's it, Y/N, just breathe," John soothed. "Take your time... you're alright."

"Where are they?" you whimpered.

"They're in his bedroom, where they always are," he replied softly. "They aren't going anywhere."

You stood, frozen in his arms for a moment, then started trembling.

"Oh God," you whispered. "He's... he's really gone, isn't he? He's really... dead?"

John let out a soft sigh. You heard him sniffle.

"Yes... he's really gone."

Another tear fell down your cheek. "He's not coming back."

"No... he's not."

"And I'm supposed to get over it? How the hell am I supposed to get over him?" you choked.

"You don't," John replied. "You just... learn how to cope. It's like... the pain's gonna be there. You just won't notice it as much as you move forward."

"We were engaged... We were supposed to get married."

You still remembered his words after you had said yes.

"Oh Y/N, we're gonna get married!"

"We're gonna have a dozen kids!"

"And you're gonna be the most gorgeous bride!"

"You're gonna be my wonderful wife."

"I love you, Y/N..."

"My beautiful Y/N..."

"I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."

If only he loved you for the rest of yours...

Hours after John had left, you were sitting on yours and Stuart's bed, gazing at his paintings, at his heart and soul.

They were all you had left.

"Stuart," you whispered. "I'm not ready for you to leave me on my own..."

You ran your cold fingers across one of his paintings, then stood up. It was past midnight. You had to try and get some sleep... but you knew it would be to no avail.

You opened a drawer to pull out your pyjamas, when something caught your eye. It was a white envelope neatly sitting on the side of your pyjamas. Printed on the front in messy handwriting were the words, "To Y/N."

You recognized the writing.

It was Stuart's.

With shaking hands, you tore open the envelope and pulled out the paper hidden inside.

My dearest Y/N,

I don't know where to start. I can't really believe it, but there's something you must know. I don't have the heart to tell you this in person because it'll only break your heart... and I don't want to be the reason for it.

Everything that I have been telling you... saying that I was feeling better, that my headaches were gone, that I was gonna be okay... they were lies. I'm getting worse. The doctors told me that it was only a matter of time before... I die.

But I can't tell you that. I can't tell you that I'm going to die.

I told you that I was okay because, even though the result of my condition would be death, I wanted you to be happy and not worry about me. Even if it was just for a moment. I wanted you to smile, and I wanted it to be real. Your smile... makes me forget that I'm going to die.

If you read this before I die, we can talk about it. If you read this after I die... I don't want you to forget me. But you have to be strong for me. You will find love again and get married... and you will have beautiful children. You are going to be happy.

I love you. I love you, and only you. I love you more than life itself. You are so beautiful... You are the love of my life.

You are my masterpiece.

Your love,
Stuart

You clutched the letter to your heart and sobbed.

But you would be okay.

Not now.

But soon.

Your broken masterpiece will slowly rebuild.

My first Stuart Imagine! This was longer than I intended it to be XD! I was gonna make it fluffy, but I honestly couldn't let this idea go, so... Does anyone need a tissue?