Among you, we live.

Our tears, we cried.

Our lives, we give.

Known fates, we abide.

Inspired by ß my mood

...xXx...

The walls were the same sky blue that she had said was her favorite color since she was seven. The small crack in the plaster - a bright white in comparison to the light shade from the time chemistry had melted their brains (and sanity) - still curved just above her desk, one of two marks breaking the monotony of the featureless wall. 

He stared at it. He could still see the way her eyes had shone, the way his heart had skipped a beat that day, at the way she had spoken ("So that we'll always be together.") - so matter-of-factly and just so sure. He could still see her frozen in that moment, happy; healthy. 

Lord in Heaven, please, don't allow this soul to pass yet. She has so much good in her still, so much purpose. Her whole life is still ahead of her. Please don't take her from me. Please, don't let this soul suffer. She doesn't deserve-

He blinked and the sky blue of the walls looked white like skeletons, like the white of the hospital room where she-

He blinked again and the vision was gone. 

I should be able to do something, to make you better.

He took in a breath, could smell the fading scent of rosemary-

You already are.

-before he breathed out, releasing it shakily. Her favorite scent had been lavender but she deferred to her second favorite rosemary when he had finally admitted that it made him nauseous. 

He wondered what else she had silently sacrificed for him when all he had ever wanted was to sacrifice for her. 

It's ok. We all knew- 

He closed his eyes and imagined her sitting at the desk, pretended that he was sitting on the chair that she kept in her room just for his visits because he was always over.

He could see the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear - the one his eye always fell to because that smooth movement, the second where she curled it around her ear, revealed the delicate curve of her neck and the small birthmark that only he knew about. 

-how this would end.

He remembered how she pursed her lips as she studied or wrote, the laser focus she maintained even if she hated the subject or what she was writing and even if she had been working for hours on end already - even as her shoulders cramped and her fingers refused to uncurl.

He watched with perfect clarity as she laughed, her eyes closed in smooth crescents, and the exact second her eyes widened, how her panic had been obvious as she-

I was never strong-

His eyes shot open and the first thing he saw was the crack in the wall. 

You were my miracle. 

He stood, staggering when the room spun around him. His head pounded once as if in warning but he continued on, stepping around the chair and placing one hand on the edge of the desk. His knuckles were white like skeletons-

He traced the crack with his other hand, eyes falling to a mark beside it, the other mar on sky blue. It was a 'Y' - his initial - made in silver sharpie, something she had drawn only seconds after they had noticed how the crack in the wall had curved into a vague 'S' - her initial. It was ("So that we'll always be together.") faded over the years but still visible. The tail of the 'Y' curled around the body of the 'S' and his hand shook.

And you were mine. 

He took in a shaky breath and quietly, softly, wept.