Sunlight streamed through the curtains, spilling across the living room like liquid gold.
Suzanne blinked her eyes open, feeling the dull ache behind her temples — but the pain was gentler today, almost sleepy.
Her mother sat beside her, half-smiling, half-exhausted. "Morning, sunshine," she whispered.
"Morning, Mom," Suzanne replied, her voice soft. "Did I scare you again?"
Her mother brushed her cheek. "You always do, darling. You've made it your hobby."
Suzannw smiled faintly. "Sorry… guess I overdid the festival."
From the doorway came a familiar voice. "Yeah, you definitely did."
She turned — and there stood Ryan, holding two mugs of hot cocoa and a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like croissants.
"Ryan?" she said, surprised. "You're here this early?"
He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd bribe your recovery with sugar."
Her mother chuckled softly, standing up. "I'll leave you two for a bit."
Then she paused by the doorway and gave Ryan a knowing look — a silent thank you.
---
"Croissants?" Suzanne teased as he sat down beside her. "Trying to make me fat before exams?"
"Please," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "If extra butter could cure everything, I'd have brought ten."
She laughed, and it felt good — real, full, bright laughter that filled the quiet house.
Ryan watched her carefully. She was still pale, still fragile, but there was light in her eyes again.
"You really don't have to come every day," she said after a while.
"Yeah, I do," he replied.
She tilted her head. "Why?"
He smiled, looking down at the cocoa in his hands. "Because I promised you I'd smile for you when you couldn't. And I'm not breaking that deal."
Her heart warmed. "You remember that?"
"Every word," he said quietly.
For a moment, neither spoke. The ticking of the clock filled the silence between them.
Then Ryan reached into his backpack and pulled out a small box wrapped in blue paper.
"What's this?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Open it," he said, trying to sound casual.
Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple but beautiful — with a tiny star charm dangling at the center.
Suzanne's breath caught. "Ryan, it's lovely…"
He grinned. "The star's for you. Because no matter how dark it gets, you still shine like you own the sky."
Her eyes glistened. "You're terrible at being normal, you know that?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "But I'm pretty good at caring about you."
---
They sat there for a while — sunlight, cocoa, laughter — everything feeling almost normal.
But then the phone rang.
Her mother answered it in the kitchen, her voice suddenly tight. "Yes, doctor… I understand. We'll come right away."
Suzanne's smile faded. "Mom? What's wrong?"
Her mother's voice trembled. "They… they found something new in your latest test. We need to go back for another scan."
The warmth in the room vanished.
Ryan froze, his hand instinctively finding hers.
"It's okay," Suzanne whispered, more to him than herself. "Maybe it's nothing."
He didn't speak. He just held her hand tighter — as if by sheer strength, he could stop time from moving forward.
---
That evening, Suzanne wrote in her diary:
> "He brought me a bracelet today.
Said I'm the star that won't fade.
Maybe he doesn't know… stars burn brightest right before they disappear."
_ _