"I want you to remember something." His voice melded with the sound of rain tapping on the window of her bedroom, one she couldn't leave often, and the chances were being concealed more and more each day.

"What's that?" She turned toward him, carefully, making sure to conceal the flash of pain that threatened to contort her sleepy facial features. He saw it. He recognized it by now, all of it. He leaned in, leaned in close.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"Even though I'm... Sick?"  Those big brown eyes gazed into his, and their eyes held each other.

"Even though you're sick." He pulled her closer to him, gently tugged at all two hundred and six pieces of fragility. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, and his soft scent accompanied her intake of breath.

One more breath. One less chance.

...

"Even if I am dying..?"

The shudder that clawed its way through him was suppressed by every cell of his willpower. He had to be strong. He kissed her closed eyes, and one flushed cheek. He drew in a breath.

"...Even if you are dying."