Gray awoke to the rhythmic chirping of birds. The sun must be up high in the sky, he guessed. His cheeks felt comfortably warm from the morning light. His consciousness began to surface more and he was now more aware of the beeping machines and the familiar scent of hospital air around him, strangely mixed with the smell of sweet strawberries. Despite being fully awake, he kept his eyes closed. He had grown so tired of seeing the same pale white of the sheets, curtains, walls and ceiling, of experiencing the utter coldness of the room where he spent years of his life in. It made him feel so alone. So weak.
He breathed in deeply, the closest thing to a sigh he could manage without the threat of tears stinging his closed eyes. Sometimes, he'd wonder if it was better for him to completely forget how to breathe.
Then why was he alive right now?
He deemed himself useless, pathetic— a sick guy who lived his life within the confines of the hospital, having to rely on medicine all the time. His family, seeing no progress with his health had given up on hoping for a miracle and went on with their daily lives, visiting him only once in a blue moon. His sickness was incurable. He might as well be dead.
Once, he completely stopped eating, ignoring every meal they gave him. Whenever a doctor or a nurse comes in for his medication, he would throw things at them, practically resisting until he had no energy left to fight back. He was desperate to die. There was no sense in living such a pitiful life. And yet he found it hard for him to end that life with his own hands. His attempts of suicide have never succeeded. If only the angel of death came and took his breathing away for him. It would be so much better. He won't be a burden to his family, to the medical staff he treated with hostility any longer. Despite that, he still chose to live.
Why? What was he living for?
Gray curled his fists and only half-succeeded. He felt the gentle, memorable warmth of slim fingers against his hand and the tears he hadn't noticed until now was lightly wiped away by the same tenderness. The scent of strawberries grew stronger and his eyes fluttered open. Momentarily, he saw the face of an angel. White light surrounded her, making her hair look a gorgeous gold. Her face was adorned with a kind smile and she held his hand with her small ones.
Did she come to take me?
"Good morning, Gray."
As his eyes adjusted from the blur of fresh tears, what he saw was nowhere near the angel of death. Instead, there was Lucy Heartfilia, the angel of his life. She had her back to the window where strips of sunlight made a halo of white around her. Lucy smiled at him painfully as she clenched his hand tightly, like her life depended on it.
"I had a bad dream." she began. You were about to leave me and go somewhere far away. Somewhere I couldn't reach." Her golden locks streamed down her shoulders as she leaned in closer to Gray as if he were really about to disappear. "I don't want to lose you. You're all that I have. I know it's just a dream but I just had to see you so I came here."
If anything, Lucy made it possible for him to hold on, to believe and love this life he saw as worthless. She was no angel of death who came to take your breath away forever; she was that angel who had always ensured you were safe; the one that made sure you would still be breathing.
Gray reached for her, cupping her face with his hand. She leaned her cheeks into his touch with a smile, her eyes glassy with tears. "Why are you crying?" he asked.
"I'm scared," Lucy whispered, her lips trembling. "I'm just so scared."
He took his time to just stare at her, caressing her cheeks lovingly as he thought: Here was someone who wanted him alive, who loved his life more than he could ever had, given him the will to live on, to hold on just a bit longer. With her, he felt like he was never alone. With her, it felt like he was living for a purpose. "Come here," he pulled his hand away and moved towards the other side of the bed, making more room between the two of them and tapped the unoccupied space beside him.
Lucy pursed her lips and lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing lightly but she climbed up nevertheless. She lay down on her side, facing him, her hair covering her pinkish cheeks.
Gray pulled her toward his body, ever so gently, her head resting against his chest. He took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "Lucy? What do you hear?"
Looking down at her, Lucy had her eyes closed and was wearing a pleasant smile. All the fear she had when she came to see him, all the shyness she showed when he asked her to lie on the bed with him was no longer there. She was beautifully calm and assured as she returned the hand squeeze he gave her. "I can hear your heart beating," she said, eyes still closed. "I can feel you breathing," her hand, holding his, tightened. "I can feel your warmth. You're here with me, alive and well. You're right here with me, breathing, living,"
Gray closed his eyes and bit his lower lip to keep them from trembling any further. He tried to keep his voice even as he soothed her with a hand at the small of her back and another patting her head. "Yes, I'm here aren't I? I would never leave you,"
I wouldn't even dare to try.
"So, don't worry,"
Lucy hummed in response, burying her face closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him and spoke in a muffled voice. "Stay with me," she said and Gray knew, for all the time he'd known her, for all the instances the very same words left her lips, what she truly meant: "I love you and I don't want to lose you,"
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he opened his eyes. In his arms, Lucy slept; breathing even, face calm and serene. She was beautiful as she could ever be. Not once since he met her had she put anything else over him. It was always him that she prioritized first. Her world revolved around him and she was better off otherwise. He did not deserve her, as much as he wanted her for himself. It would be better for her to leave a dying man like him to rot alone. She should find someone else, someone who could be for her for as long as it would take, not someone like him who didn't even know how much more heartbeats he could manage.
She would be happier if it weren't him, so much happier. But he was selfish and he didn't want her to see her go. He didn't want to hand her over to anyone. She could have easily gotten any man of her choice. She was kind, lovely, everything a guy could ever ask for. And yet she chose him, above anybody else, above anything else. And he was sinfully glad for it, glad to keep her within his cages. He took so much away from her. And Lucy, knowing this quite well, still chose to be by his side. How could he even consider throwing his life away when Lucy sacrificed so much just to prolong it?
What was it that he was running from?
Gray reached for her face and brushed away stray locks that fell down on her closed eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her ever so lightly on the temple. "I can't let you go. I won't let you,"
Wanting her so much like this was like piercing a knife through his chest but still, all that was keeping him alive was Lucy and her alone. He made her love him as much as he loved her that neither of them could live without the other. She gave him her life and he would give his without hesitation but Lucy would never want that. She just wanted to keep him alive, to never leave her side, to hear his heartbeats and to feel him breathe, to share his warmth, to be assured that he was there, really there, that he would not leave her.
For loving her so much and for making her love him just the same, he was ready to pay any price just to keep her by his side. He would give her his life, and not that way. Every single heartbeat his heart would make, every single breath he would take, every part of his being, he would give her. He would live for as long as his body would allow him to. He'd live for her, breathe for her and assure her that he was there for her like she was for him.
The familiar softness against him and sweet scent of strawberries filled his thoughts with Lucy that even when he closed his eyes, he could see her face as if it were imprinted at the back of his eyelids. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I love you," With a soft sigh, he leaned in and gave her a kiss before sleep took over him once again.
