can you get me a drink...of water cause my lips are chapped and faded

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"Are you scared?" I asked.

"Yes." He replied.

Lance sat in the back of the amublance, laying on the stretcher as a paramedic sat quietly, holding his oxygen to his lips. I grabbed his hand.

"I'm glad you're being honest." I smiled sadly.

He lifted his eyebrows. "And you?"

"Terrified."

The drive was long. It was midnight, the first of June. The spring air was growing humid, warmer. The breeze was thick with dew that coated the grass. 

Lance had his attack that evening.

We'd had a normal day- raspberries and Little Women. Then, I did my usual cleaning and exercise while Lance napped. Lance's stretches and physical therapy before lunch. Cinderella again. James' appointment. Dinner and Friends. We'd been asleep for a few hours, before Lance's machines went off.

I had woken up, to see Lance frothing at the mouth, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Seizure.

The ambulance had arrived and they'd assessed the situation. The E.R. team had given him oxygen and provided neurological medication to ease the severity. He'd awoken minutes later, doped up on pain relievers.

We arrived at the hospital, and he was relocated to a room on the fifth floor. The familiar smell of antiseptics and sick filled the air, as I was sat in a cold waiting room, in a beige leather seat with other patients' loved ones for hours. Judge Judy reruns played on the t.v, and soap operas like General Hospital. I didn't sleep.

Morning came, and I got some coffee from the cafeteria. It was horrible. But luckily, a tall doctor came to see me not shortly after. She said I could come see Lance.

It was around 9 in the morning. The doctor told me they'd corrected his damage from the epileptic attack, and he'd been taken off chemo. Surgery on the displacement went well, but as I'd been told before, he was too weak to survive much longer. We could stay while he fought it out. There was nothing they could do.

I entered the room, and I could tell Lance knew. He didn't fake a smile, instead opening his IV ridden arms for a hug. I held him for what seemed like forever. Feeling his heart beating and smelling his hair, I felt relaxed. The lost hours of sleep caught up all at once.

They'd be running tests on him all day, but a DVD player was set up, and Lance was allowed to watch all the studio ghibli content I had brought. I slept through majority of the day at his side.

The week after seemed to blur. His family members came to visit, and we took turns sleeping in his room and staying in the waiting room. His extended family would stay hours at a time, or closer relatives for a few days here and there. His mother and I though, never left his side.

Lance didn't say much when his family was around. He always put on a cheerful face, a big smile and tried to be as boisterous as possible. But these encounters would lead to him having to rest for hours behind closed doors.

I knew he was afraid. Afraid to go, but also afraid to hurt all the people he'd be leaving behind. His family was large, and their love for him was even bigger. He knew this.

He told me at night he felt guilty. He didn't want to cause so much pain. He wished he could carry it all.

I told him we all felt guilty, but it was no one's fault. The love he's given them while he was healthy is more than enough, and we are all grateful for what he's given to us. Even if his presence was cut short.

He would wake up crying many of the nights. A nurse would come in, but it would usually be my touch or his mothers that would help. There was no medicine or numbing device that could help him with the pain in his heart. 

The food was horrible, and I rarely ate. Sleeping was hard, knowing Lance could possibly not wake up with me.

My health was declining with his, and it was hard to differentiate the two. The hospital room was suffocating. And I was claustrophobic.

I didn't want Lance to go.

There was so much we hadn't seen or experienced.

He had wanted kids. I never did, but now...

I wanted to see him raise our child in his arms, protect our family...love and nurture. He'd be a great father.

For some reason tears wouldn't come. Just dry heaves and a thousand tons weighing down my heart.

I dreaded every night and awaited every morning with this weight.

I spoke to him every moment I could just to hear his voice. See his smile. I brought my guitar and would play for hours, until my fingers blistered.

Six nights had passed.

I had returned from the cafeteria with more coffee. I'd grown somewhat tolerant of it, and it's stale graininess. 

Lance was sitting up. His mother was holding his hand tight, kissing his knuckles.

I stepped into the room, putting my coffee down.

His mother walked towards me with a sad smile, and a nod before leaving the room quietly. I glanced over at Lance. He lifted an arm to me.

I sat at his side, his eyes already telling me what I didn't want to know.

"Soon?" I asked quietly. He nodded, tracing his finger slowly up my arm.

I bit my lip. I didn't want him to go. Not yet.

"I don't want to make this dramatic." Lance said.

"You're always dramatic." I said. He chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess I am." He smiled at me.

"I love that about you."

He grinned. "I'm glad."

"I realized recently." I said. "I want that kid we talked about. That we met at the orphanage."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "The one with the albinism?"

"And the blind left eye, yes." I nodded. "I want to help her, raise her to survive this cruel world with you."

"You still can." Lance smiled.

"Don't let this hold you back, still live your life to the fullest, Keith. Promise me."

I scrunched my nose. I felt tears coming. "I will."

"Good." Lance said.

He paused.

"I don't want to go, Keith."

"I know." I said, holding his hand.

"I'm really scared," Tears began to fall down his cheeks. "I don't want to leave you..or Mama."

"I know." I said again, as I began to cry. "But you won't be in pain, okay?"

He nodded fast, sniffling.

I smiled through my tears. "And I'll be with you soon enough, okay?"

He smiled back, crying. "I'll wait for you."

"Yeah?"

"Forever." He smiled.

I chuckled, crying harder. "I love you, Lance."

"I love you too, Keith." Lance said. He sniffled.

"Can I have one last thing...before I go?"

I exhaled. "Anything."

"Kiss me."

I felt my tears roll in bundles, as I blinked hard, sobbing. "But, won't it hurt-"

"Please, I...I can't remember the feeling of your lips.. Keith."

I squeezed his hand. I couldn't remember his.

"Okay, my love." I said with a smile, taking one last look into those vibrant crystal pools of his, before leaning in and kissing him, taking his last breathe.

The flatline rang out as I pulled away from his lips.

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im literally fucking sobbing oh shit i need a moment