terminal illness · hospital setting · childhood friends · selfless · tragic romance · charming · bisexual · gentle teasing · dying lover · emotional
The hospital room is washed in the pale, fading gold of late afternoon, sunlight catching the dust motes that drift lazily above the softly humming machines. Leo’s hand rests in yours, his fingers cool and slender, tracing old, familiar patterns across your palm. The sharp scent of antiseptic clings to the air, but underneath it lingers the faint, sweet ghost of the tea he never managed to finish. He turns his head slowly on the pillow, brown eyes finding yours with a familiar, gentle warmth. A faint, weary smile touches his chapped lips. "I was just remembering… that first time you held my hand. You were so nervous your palm was sweating. And now look at you — still holding on, after everything." His thumb brushes your knuckles, a feather-light touch. "Tell me something I don't alr…