Zayn's pov:
That morning I woke up earlier than I needed to. I still felt the weight of yesterday's prayers compressed in my chest, but for the first time in weeks, I had a strange lightness. Hope. It's as if the night had whispered in my ear that maybe...just maybe I was starting to be seen. The way her eyes had softened, the way her lips had lifted when she made fun of me. I replayed these memories over and over, holding on to them like a man thirsty for water.
I wanted to see her smile again. No, it was more than that I wanted to give her something to grasp. Something that would tell her she hadn't just been surviving, hooked up to oxygen and machines in a hospital bed. She deserved to feel alive.
That's when the light bulb went on. A real date. A date that actually broke through the haze of medicines and wires. A date that was just for us.
She needed a dress. Not just any dress, but one that was bold. One that represented the spark I knew was hidden inside her soul, despite her fragile spirit. Red. The color of bravery. The color of love. The color of rebellion. The color she should wear.
I drove across town feeling restless and impatient. I think I had walked into five different boutiques before I saw it - a flowy red dress with delicate stitching that lit up under the lights. It was more than a dress, it was a promise waiting to be fulfilled. I held it to my chest, picturing her in the dress, picturing her laughter, picturing her blush, picturing her hair falling cerulean curls as she twirled.
When I had finished paying, the cashier had asked me if it was for someone special. "Oh yes" was right there on the tip of my tongue, but the words never made it anywhere other than halfway out of my mouth. Instead, I just smiled as I clutched the box like it was the most valuable possession I have ever owned.
As I returned to the hospital, I approached her room with a racing heart. She sat up, her eyes shone despite an oxygen tube implanted in her nose, and as our eyes met, curiosity overtook her. I rested the box in her lap.
"What's this?" she inquired as she began to pull at the ribbon with her fingers.
I held back from answering her right away because I wanted her to wait. The moment the fabric tumbled from the box, I no longer needed to answer when she gasped. The color dripped from her cheeks while she hugged the dress to her chest like it was her most prized possession.
"You… you got this for me?" she said nearly under her breath.
Her eyes sparkled with almost natural tears, and this was the first time I felt she could see me. Everything felt as though it was starting to break down.
She giggled in an angelic burst soft, light, musical. I felt my heart stop. She tilted her head, the same shy and playful way she would jokingly flirt with me to catch me off guard, and her cheeks blushed as she brushed her hand across her cheek because apparently, she couldn't believe her luck of receiving the gift.
"I feel so lucky," she said quietly, her eyes dropping, in spite of the smile on her lips. "Lucky to have you."
I was undone. My pulse roared in my ears. I wanted to believe. No, I did believe.
The makeup artist came in a short time later, and I stepped back and watched silently while they changed her. Her hair was pinned into waves, and her skin was as radiant as it was illuminated by sunlight. They adjusted her oxygen pipe gently, and even technique made it a non-issue, tucking it so it wouldn't cover her beauty. When she glanced into the mirror, she even looked surprised.
"Do I really look like this?" She laughed and blushed again.
I wanted to tell her she looked like a princess. No, much more than that - like every possibility I'd ever imagined of a future, wrapped in silk against me, breathing life into my chest. I just smiled because I had no words.
She twirled just a bit, despite her weakness. "So…where's our date?" she joked, and the sound of her laughter rushed forth like sunshine through clouds.
I could've stayed right there forever...
But that is not what fate permits.
It happened so quickly. Her giggles dried up and her hand flew to her chest. Her mouth dropped open, but instead of more laughter, a terrible cough forced itself through her small body. Then another. And then blood.
My heart stopped.
All I could see was bright red on her lips and bright red smeared on her hand. It was not lipstick. It was everything I had afraid of.
I rushed to her and held her shoulders in my trembling hands. "No, no, stay with me. You're fine. You're okay. Just breathe please breathe."
She wasn't panicking. The fact she reacted this way was the cruelest part. She just lay back, her eyes still full of that soft light, as if she was calming me instead.
There were doctors and nurses piling into the room at that point, sounds overlapping, beeping noises, rattling machines, but I could not hear them. All I could hear was her breath, too fast and shallow.
She took my hand—her fingers were chilly, but her grasp was firm.
"I'm strong," she said quietly, fixing her gaze on me. "Your love makes me strong. I will always love you."
Something in my chest crumbled. I choked down tears in my throat. I squeezed her hand harder and said it over and over hoping, pleading. Don't take her from me. Please. Please God, don't take her from me.
A gentle smile appeared on her face. "I love your dress...promise me when I get better...take me out for a date."
Her voice caught, but still she dreamed of tomorrow. And I...I held tight to that dream with everything that was in me.
They pushed her away for surgery, and I trailed after. My hands were trembling as I put my mask and gloves on. My body was mobilizing, but my soul was already shattered.
I leaned over to her while they got ready and whispered, "You will be okay. I will take care of it. We have a future, together just hold on a little more."
Her eyes flew opened one last time. She looked at me, her lip quivering, and whispered,
"I will always love you, Sylus."
The Earth ceased to exist.
The beeping monitor went flat, and the cry ruptured my chest. My breath caught. My knees bent.
Sylus.
Not me. Not ever me.
Every dream I had built, every fragile hope I had grasped, all came apart with that one word.
I didn't notice my mask crumbling. I didn't notice the tears running down my face. All I could hear was the ugly rotten sob, ripping through my chest, louder than the machines, louder than my colleagues' screams.
A faild doctor and a failed lover were in a same body loose today it was to much to handle. Too much.
I sobbed till my voice cracked, until my body shook. Until there was nothing left but the unbearable truth: she had never belonged to me.
And she never would.