I forgot when was the last time I heard you saying about your favourite fairy-tale. The one that you told me over and over again to the extent that I could memorise every single word in the story.

I thought deep and hard. Panic flowed through my body because I couldn’t remember when I heard that story for the very last time.

You once cried, which scares me because it made me wonder what I did wrong to you to make you cry like that. Tears washed your face, you were crying hard, really hard. I asked why and you told me that fairy-tales would remain as fairy-tales because it will never come true. I will not be your prince, and you wouldn’t be my princess. I laughed at you being naïve.

You probably didn’t know then, but ever since you confessed your love for me, you lighted up my life like how the stars that spread across the sky light up the darkness during night time when there isn’t any light. You lighted up my life when I felt that there isn’t hope in my future as a pianist and composer.

Do you know that I am willing to be the angel in your fairy-tale? I am more than willing to open my arms and spread my wings to protect you. All you have to do is to believe. Believe that our story would be like a fairy-tale. A happy ending.

I was so stressed up for my debut concert. It wasn’t a solo concert, but my company gave me a chance to perform a song to mark my debut. They said that I have to compose my own piece and it should be making an impact to the audience. I didn’t know what to do then, totally at a loss and a state of confusion.

I started with the tune of the song. We were in your small apartment when I was composing. Your small living room could barely fit a 2-seater chair and yet, a piano is placed right in front of the chair. You lied across the chair and hear me hitting the keys of the piano, trying to find the correct tune that gives me the inspiration. I keep playing, but somehow, I couldn’t find what I was looking for.

Frustrated, you stood up and walked two steps to the piano, and started to hit a few different keys from what I just played. It was that eureka moment as ideas of the tune started flowing in, and you helped to bridge up the broken parts of the piece which I found it to be weird and awkward.

You laid back and relax, enjoying to the music by closing your eyes to feel the music and shaking your leg to the tune.

After I was tired of practising, and turned to face you, wanting to chat with you, being the princess you were, you gave me an order.

“Help me with the move.” You ordered as you are moving to another apartment in two weeks.

Silence as I just stared into your eyes.

“I said, help me with the move.” You sounded like you were losing your patience.

“YAH! I SAID, HELP ME WITH THE MOVE.” This time, you totally lost it and screamed.

I laughed and agreed.

The move was tiring. More tiring than sitting in front of the piano for the whole day, trying to come up with something. But I am willing to do it for you. I enjoy being your servant and being ordered.

Even though you lived in a small apartment, but there were many things that we needed to pack because you had many clothes and accessories and other whatnots.

We spent an entire week trying to pack those stuffs and spent another week trying to bring in those furniture into your new apartment. We spent an entire day moving the furniture and were soaked in sweat as we moved in that 2-seater chair which you insisted to bring along, trying to save as much money as possible by not buying new ones.

We moved that chair in and slumped onto it, panting hard as we had to bring it up to the third floor, where your apartment is at and we were unlucky as the lift had to break down when we were moving the chair.

I stared down onto your rising and falling chest and your white tee that is soaked in sweat which is becoming translucent, showing that pink bra you were wearing. You caught me staring down and smirked.

I tried to act innocent and got up, continuing with the move.

We tried to get the basic things in order, like the chair and the television so that you could watch your drama later at night.

We stopped before your drama started and had the time to change out of the smelly shirts that proved we worked hard today.

We settled in the 2-seater chair as we got ready to watch the final episode of the drama. I was just watching with you since it isn’t my genre of dramas while you started to get emotional.

The drama didn’t end well, and you were in tears when it ended. I looked at you while you cried, secretly and silently judging you. You found out and scolded me for judging you when you cry as I sat down there motionless.

I found the one and only way to shut you up and make you forgive me. I slammed my lips towards yours while you returned them with the same pressure.

Things were getting heated up until we both felt something wet at our noses. We separated and saw each other’s faces. Yours had a tint of red near the lips, and I guess mine had too because it felt slightly sticky and you were laughing probably at how I looked.

While you were laughing, I saw a stream of red liquid flowing from your nose. I knew that something was wrong. You were complaining of having severe headaches for quite a few days now and now, your nose is bleeding. I insisted you to visit the hospital for a check-up the very next day much to your reluctance.

I ended up dragging you to the hospital while you took the tests unwillingly.

You were diagnosed with leukaemia. The last stage.

Being the stubborn girl you are, you refused any medical attention because you felt that it would just prolong your suffering instead. It hurts me to hear that you refused it because it means that the time that I spent with you are shortened.

I somehow got the lyrics written during this period and every line of the song tells something about you. How much you love fairy-tales, when was the last time I hear you saying that story, how you cried when you realised life isn’t a fairy-tale because happy endings wouldn’t happen. It also includes how you light up my life and how I am willing to make happy endings a reality, not just a dream.

I brought you to the concert hall just 3 days before the concert, and gave you the privilege to be my very first audience. I was playing the first part of the song and started to sing the pre-chorus until I heard a sound. It sounded like something just fell.

Instinct wise, I turned my head, and saw an unconscious body lying on the stage. You fainted. I knew that something bad was happening.

I used all of my strength and carried you. In fact, you got lighter from the last time I carried you and ran around the playground. I was frantically looking for the way towards the hospital as I saw the red liquid flowing through your nostrils. I panicked even more because you wouldn’t respond to me no matter how much I called out to you.

Eventually, I got to the hospital and sent you to the emergency ward. Your condition just deteriorated. The doctor said that you should be warded, which also means that you couldn’t make it for my performance.

You were being stubborn once again and insisted that you should listen to my performance. I thought of an idea. I gave you your phone, and told you to answer my call when I called you. I would call you before I start performing so that you would be ‘there’ when I do so.

Before I left for the concert hall, you gathered all the strength you had on your weak body to say something to me.

“Good luck!” you whispered with all your might.

I gave a smile before leaving your ward.

I am standing backstage now, waiting for my name to be called.

Apparently, the tickets for this concert was sold out and I could see the sea of people that is seated on their seats.

My name got called, and I breathed in a deep breathe before walking out.

I bowed to the audience which led to claps from them. That is my cue to walk towards the piano.

As I stood in front of the piano, I slipped my right hand into my pocket and took my phone out and went to the call page. Your number was on speed dial, so all I had to do is press ‘1’ and the call button.

The call got connected almost immediately, and I saw the time running on the page shown, an indication that you took the call and the cue for me to start playing.

I sat down and placed my fingers on the white and black keys. My fingers started dancing on the keys of the piano and I sang the respective lyrics of the song, every line which reminds me of you who is supporting me in the hospital. I looked at my phone as I carried on playing, as if I was looking at you.

Unknowingly, I started crying as I played towards the end of the song. As the last note is played, I heard roaring claps from the audience. They stood up and gave a standing ovation. I got the recognition I desired, but I didn’t feel happy. In fact, I felt that I just lost something instead.

I rushed towards the hospital right after the performance, wanting to see you. I went to your ward, only to find an empty bed. I panicked once more.

I ran out of your ward, frantically trying to look for a nurse to enquire about your condition. After what it seems like forever of searching, I found one by the counter and ran up to her and asked about you.

“O-oh… I am sorry to say, but she was pronounced dead 15 minutes ago… she breathed her last after hearing a song from her mobile phone.” She informed.

I froze.

15 minutes. The time it took for me to reach the hospital.

Breathed her last after hearing a song from a mobile phone. I stood rooted on the hospital ground.

I wasn’t feeling any emotions at the moment because I really don’t know what to feel.

I didn’t say goodbye…

I am willing to be the angel you love in fairy-tales.

I wanted to be that angel you love in fairy-tales.

I will be that angel you love in fairy-tales.

We are supposed to write our own happy ending.

How did you become my angel instead?

A/N: *runs and hide away* sorry if i brought about any tears but this songfic is a really really sad one. i cried buckets of tears when i watched the music video when i was a kid T.T 

you could probably guessed who's POV this is in...