John held Taylor's hand tightly, his face drenched with tears. She was resting on a white satin bed, her skinny and weak body shaking. Her eyes were wandering everywhere, looking for something that could reassure her. Her rosy cheeks were no more: they were now hollow and pale, and her once beautiful full lips were so thin and purple. Her gorgeous blonde mane, which she loved to comb in many elegant ways, had disappeared. She was almost bald, with only some short locks coming out of her skin. Her limbs were now only bones, with no more curves. Oh, how the disease made her lose her looks!

John did not realise how long she had been sick, with this terrible virus taking her away from him. She could barely speak, and the only noises she could make were only long, squeaky, horrible complains. She could not eat a thing, and the only thing that kept her alive was this catheter constantly planted in her arm. The pain was seizing her body, eating her away. She could not move, she could not stand up. If the wind could have blown over her, she would have flown away with it.

Taylor weakly pressed John's hand, letting out her bloodcurdling complain, as her empty eyes were staring at him. She tried to sit up, but she was not strong enough. John did not even try to help her, knowing that it would hurt her and make her die quicker. Instead, she abruptly grabbed the fabric of his collar and pulled her closer to her. She lightly craned her neck, and John felt her deadly breath on his ear.

“It will be sooner than you think” she squeaked.

John looked at her in disbelief. His eyes filled with terror, as her face was now only a skull. She screamed on top of her dying lungs, and disappeared suddenly. He felt something weighing in his hands. He lowered his eyes on it and saw her head. He gasped and stepped back, hearing the sound of something breaking, like a stick. He took a look at what it was and noticed that he was walking on bones, near which a stonegrave was resting on the grass. “Taylor Taylor, double name, doubly insane, dying”.

John woke up with a start. He was panting and sweating, his hand resting on his chest. He looked all around him to make sure that it was only a nightmare, and that he was back to reality. He glanced at the sheets next to him: Taylor was up already. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his demented heartbeats. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and stretched his back, trying to get rid of his nightmare.

He pushed the sheets out of his body and stood up, feeling a sudden coldness on his body. He frowned and looked down at it. He was naked. Then, the memories of the night before came back to him, like the sweet caress of a velvet glove. His lips stretched into a wide grin, as he remembered the taste of Taylor's lips, this of her neck, and this of her whole body. It was like a gift she had given him, and it was the most precious one he ever got. He cherished the memories of the tender looks she gave him, the way she kissed him, and the way she said his name. Even during the “thing”, she kept calling him “John Deacon”, though she said that she called people by their first name if they got intimate. After that, were they still strangers?

John grabbed his towel, which he had put on his suitcase, and wrapped it around his hips. He turned to the window and saw a lonesome figure standing on the ramparts, its back turned to the window. John immediately recognised Taylor, wrapped up in a blue coat, her arms crossed. She had combed her hair in a simple 40s hairstyle, wearing a blue dress.

John threw the towel on the floor and slipped on clean boxers, his jeans, a clean t-shirt, and white socks. After that, he ran up to the entrance and took his shoes, which he put on, and wrapped himself in is black jacket, slipping his hands in the pockets. He felt a thick folded paper in it and took it out: it was the envelope with the two ferry tickets to go back to England. He shrugged and put them back into the pocket, so he would be sure not to lose them. He grabbed the keys and stormed off the flat, locking the door.

Two minutes later, he was climbing the stone stairway to get to the ramparts. His hands buried in his pockets, he made his way on the ramparts, enjoying the soft yet cold breeze blowing, making his hair float out from his face. He looked at the boats sailing out of the harbour, with people having a walk in the street, taking pictures or laughing together. This sight of the peaceful city brought a smile to his face, as he got closer to Taylor.

He looked straight before him, and there she was. She was leaning on her elbows on the cold stone, staring at the sea. The closer he got, the better he could see the expression on her face. She had dark circles under her green eyes, but she did not look tired. She looked like a beautiful doll, whose joy had been taken away from her.

John silently stopped behind her, wrapping his arms tenderly around her waist. She jumped in surprise, gasping, before turning to him. She frowned lightly and freed herself from his embrace. John's smile faded away, and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Taylor, this is only me. I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Go away, Deacon.”

Taylor removed his hand from her shoulder and walked away, in the direction of the sea. Confused, John followed her, running a bit as she walked large steps.

“Taylor? What's the matter?”

“What's the matter? I'll tell you what this is!” she said, abruptly turning to him. “What we did was wrong.”

Her remark hit him right in the heart. He was speechless for a few seconds, his hands trembling.

“But I... I asked you if you were sure about it, I never forced you or anything, I...”

“I know you didn't! I didn't know if I was sure!”

“Then why did you say you were? I would have understood if you didn't! I know that what I'm going to say is childish, but it's you, who started the whole thing! I didn't ask for anything, I was just looking at the sea!”

“Oh yes, of course it's my fault.”

John frowned and slowly shook his head, clenching his fists. He did not want to hit her, quite the reverse, but he felt so betrayed that rage and sadness grew in his chest. He gulped with difficulty and cleared his throat.

“You know what? You're right. It was wrong. Definitely wrong. I shouldn't have slept with a woman who doesn't give a shit about me! I told you that I was in love with you, and you simply played with me and my feelings. I'm not your dog, Taylor. You said you cared about me, but you don't. You never did.”

“I do!”

“No, you don't! Because if you really loved me, even as a friend, you wouldn't have played with me like you did, whereas I'm in love with you!”

“Love is a ton of lies, how can you even believe in it?! Love is stupid! And all it can do is break your heart and ruin your life!”

“No, no, it doesn't. It's true that I could tend to think that with what you did to me, but I still don't. I still believe it's one of the most beautiful things.”

“Bullshit!”

“Listen, it's not because you had one bad experience that you have to make me pay for it, alright? I'm not guilty for what he did to you! Do you even realise what I'm ready to do for you, because I love you? I brought you souvenirs from Japan, I took you to the most expensive restaurant of London, I bought you this necklace, I brought you to Brittany to fulfill your dream, I'm ready to make you travel everywhere as much as I can, I'm ready to take care of you if you get sick, I'm even ready to take care of you all the time.”

“Your money can't buy me, John Deacon.”

“Who said that I wanted to buy you, Taylor? I mentioned the souvenirs, the restaurant and the necklace only because those were things I bought to make you happy. I know how much you love postcards, so I bought you some, with a box to put them in. I took you to the restaurant because I didn't want your birthday to be boring. I bought you this necklace, because I thought that it would be pretty with your eyes. Is that a crime?”

John did not realise that he had shouted. He bit his lip, as tears were rolling down his cheeks. Taylor was frowning, hesitating between walking away or yelling back at him. Instead, she remained silent, while John was sobbing and hiccupping.

“I don't understand, Taylor... You... You helped me having self-confidence, you opened my eyes, and now you're spitting on me and stabbing me. I don't understand, really...”

“Self-confidence? I did nothing!”

“Oh yes, you did! You taught me to trust myself, while walking with eyes closed so I would not be afraid to get lost.”

“All of that is bullshit, can't you see it?”

“What?”

“I was fucking drunk when i told you that, how could you even think that I could be serious?”

“So, once again, you played with me?”

Taylor bit her lip and looked down, trying to find something to say. John shook his head and buried his face in his hands, before facing her again, an expression of face on his face.

“How long have you been lying to me, Taylor?”

“I didn't lie to...”

“I asked you something. I thought you were my best friend, and I thought I was yours. But it seems like all of this is just made of illusions.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“You are my best friend.”

“That's why you hurt me this way? That's why you break my heart into pieces, throw it on the floor, and stamp your feet on it? Rubbing them on it as if it was a fucking carpet? That's not how I treat a best friend. I think we don't have the same definition of a best friend.”

Taylor stared at him with pursed lips, her fists clenched as well. She had teary eyes, but she did not want to cry. “I'm not weak” she thought. She shook her head and sighed, before saying in a cold tone:

“You'd better sleep on that couch tonight.”

John's eyes widened, and he laughed nervously, shaking his head. He buried a hand in the pocket of his jacket and took out the envelope.

“No, I won't sleep on the couch. You know what? A thousand thanks for the way you treated me. Here is your ferry ticket for the day you'll go back to England. As for me, I'm going back to the flat, I'm going to pack my stuff and leave.”

“No, John Deacon, don't leave...”

“That's enough! I can't take it anymore! So I'm going to leave and go back home, while you enjoy your trip to Brittany freely. After I leave the flat, we're never going to see each other again. I don't want to see you ever again. It's over. This friendship is over.”

“John Deacon...”

John threw her ticket at her face and spun round, walking away angrily. Taylor sighed and followed him, her ticket in one hand. She bumped into a man and apologised, running after John.

“John Deacon!”

“No, Taylor. It's over.”

“John Deacon, please!”

John bit his lip, forcing himself to ignore her, whereas all he wanted to do was to throw himself at her feet and cry. However, he was really mad at her for all the lies she told him, and for the fact that she betrayed him.

Seeing that he was not replying, Taylor clenched her fists a bit tighter, holding back her tears, though it was extremely hard. She deadened a sob and took a deep breath, feeling her knees growing weaker. She stopped walking and watched him walk away, before feeling a growing feeling in her chest. Something that she had not felt for a very long time, which seemed to be an eternity. She gathered her courage and screamed on top of her lungs.

“JOHN!”

John stopped walking immediately, his eyes widening and his hands shaking. He slowly spun round, looking at her.

“How... How did you call me?”

Taylor shyly walked up to him, her cheeks burning, frowning. She was pouting, as if she had just screamed that she owned a vagina. She was embarrassed, but self-confident at the same time. John was staring at her like a parent would do to his child when he pronounces his first word or walked for the first time.

“I called you 'John'.”

“How's that?”

Taylor looked at him and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. John wrapped his arms around her, pressing her tenderly against his heart, kissing her hair, sobbing at the same time. She shook her head.

“I'm sorry for all the things I said, I didn't mean them! You're the person I love the most. And notice that I didn't say 'like', because I would be lying.”

“What do you mean?”

Taylor kept silent for a few seconds, trying to calm down. She wiped off her tears and looked at him, her lips trembling.

“I'm in love with you, John. But I'm so fucking terrified of love.”

“Why are you terrified?”

“It's because of this guy... I didn't tell you everything 'bout 'im.”

“Let's sit down somewhere, and tell me what happened.”

Taylor slowly nodded, and John took her hand to reassure her. He led her to the edge of the ramparts. She leant on her elbows on it, trying to find where she would start. She took a deep breath and sighed.

“As I told you, my parents died in a car crash when I was thirteen, and my sister Elenore had to raise me. I also told you that she was a drug addict, and as she spent all our money to buy drugs, we were broke. One day, she met someone in a party, a guy who was really rich. His name was Terry Roth. She tried to seduce him so they would get married and we would have been saved, but he had a crush on me. Elenore didn't care if it was on me. So... She tried to force me into marrying him.”

“WHAT?”

“Please, John, I'm not finished, and it's already difficult.”

“Sorry, love.”

Taylor smiled briefly and looked at her hands, following the lines of her scars.

“I was almost sixteen, and I didn't want to get married to him. I had a terrible argument with Elenore, and I ran away from home. I rented my flat at Whitechapel with the money I kept aside for my studies. Elenore could not have an access to the money. I didn't leave a note or anything, and I thought that I was going to be fine. But they found me. I didn't know that he was a drug addict too, and he was actually very aggressive and cruel. They both broke in my flat, when I had absolutely no furnitures and all, and they caught me. Elenore started to hit me, and Terry got even madder. He tried to kill me with a knife he kept in his pocket all the time, and Elenore was encouraging him. I remember that I had this cigarette between my fingers, and I tried to burn his hands so he would let go of the knife. But I failed. I only burnt his coat. He took it and burnt my hands, before setting a lock of my hair on fire. I managed to make the fire go out. And... He grabbed my wrists, and I struggled, I kicked him many times, he slapped me and he started to tear my clothes. He tried to... He tried to rape me.”

Taylor burst into tears, covering her face with her trembling hands. John wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her arm gently.

“But I managed to take his knife. While trying, he cut my hands, and that's why I have those awful scars. I took the knife and pointed it at him. He stepped back and Elenore tried to get rid of me. I cut her arm. She has scars too, I can bet on that. I pinned Terry's hand to the wall with the knife, and I ran away.”

She paused and took a deep breath.

“During five months, I lived in the back shop of the baker. I worked for her all this time to thank her, without being paid. And I had the right to eat the last pastries that she didn't sell. She had set a bed in the back shop... Only a mattress and a rag. She couldn't welcome me in her flat, because she had a tiny one and almost had not enough space for her children. When I returned, there was the stain of Terry's blood on the wall, Elenore's and mine on the floor. I have been allowed by the owner to change the floors and the wallpapers. With all the money I kept aside, I bought a bed, a fridge, and that was all. Then, I got some jobs and I went to an Art college when I was old enough. But after one year, it was impossible for me to pay the university. And I received many threatening letters from Elenore. So I became a dropout and only got small jobs. I read one day in a newspaper that Elenore has been sectioned to a mental hospital. She tried to kill Terry afterwards, and someone called the police. She's schizophrenic.”

“Fuck...”

“I'm sorry that I lied to you. One day I told you that I ran away with him because I was in love and we simply got into a fight. But it's way more complicated. The thing is that at first, I really fell in love with him.”

“I see. Taylor, I'm not like this guy. I will protect you. I will take care of you in all the situations. I will let nobody touch you if it's to harm you.”

“You will?”

“I will.”

Taylor smiled weakly and stroked his cheek.

“I'm sorry for all the things I said and for giving you false hopes.”

“So... You still didn't change your mind?”

Taylor smiled widely this time, and giggled briefly, her eyes shining with tears of joy. She gulped and blushed, before nodding slowly.

“I did.”

John's eyes widened, and the most beautiful smile appeared on his face. It was bright as the sun, happy like the flowers dancing in a cool breeze. He sighed in relief and blushed heavily. Taylor leant in and pressed her lips against hers, cupping his face with her hands. She snuggled against him and smiled.

“John?”

“Mmh?”

“I love you.”

John felt like crying again, but for a completely different reason.

“I love you too, Taylor. But... what are we now?”

“We're two best friends... dating. I guess.”

“That means that I am your...”

“You're my boyfriend. And I'm your girlfriend. That's how it works, isn't it?”

They giggled and shared a tender kiss, stroking each other's hand. Taylor poked the tip of his nose.

“But if I date you, you will still be my best friend. For me, a guy can't be my boyfriend if he isn't my best friend too.”

“That's the best kind of relationship, isn't it? And perhaps this kind of relationship lasts longer.”

“I personally hope that ours will last forever and beyond.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

They laughed happily and kissed many times, before John took Taylor's hand, squeezing it lightly. She was cold, her fingers were frozing. He smiled and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Let's go back to the flat and have breakfast, mmh?”

“Okay. I'm buying some pastries.”

“We'll buy them together.”

Taylor nodded and wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked away from their spot, walking down the ston stairway, stopping at a bakery.

Taylor felt her heart being way lighter, as she finally told her story for the first time since she met this kind baker who took care of her for five months. She still had her best friend, who turned out to be her lovely boyfriend. For the rest of the day, a smile got stuck on her face.

She was in love with him, and they felt fine.