As I sit here in her
bedroom, I wonder how I could've ever doubted that this reward would pay out
the risks. She's so beautiful, yet so fragile, yet so full of spirit. Her
porcelain skin is almost reflective in the dim moonlight. She looks ill, I
admit, but still as elegant as ever, hooked up to machines and wires, yet as
dignified as ever. She smiles at me so wide that I'm afraid her face will break
into two.
"Shhhhhh,"
I whisper, holding out the bag of smuggled cookies. She reaches for one
tentatively, as though I will yell "SYKE" and jump back out the
window from whence I came. Her face melts before she has even finished chewing
her first bite.
My heart soars
before footsteps on the stairs paralyse me momentarily. The footsteps pass and
disappear. I breathe in a sigh of relief.
"I'm
sorry," she shakes her head. "This is ridiculous. You don't need to
be here." She nudges me toward the window.
I giggle under my
breath, a light tinkle like a tiny bell. "Nothing could keep me from my
princess." I lift her hand and kiss it between the many drips and monitor
wires.
"You know what
will happen if my mother catches you up here…"
"She'll have to
drag me tooth and nail from your side."
"You're
ridiculous."
"You have to be
to climb three storeys up an unreliable rope ladder just to deliver cookies to
a dying princess, but conveniently, I love you."
She rolls her eyes.
I run my fingers
over her delicate hand. She sighs contentedly.
Her most striking
physical feature is her long, golden hair. Chemotherapy usually kills hair
calls, but she's lucky enough for hers to just continue growing. She's also
unlucky enough for the chemotherapy to not kill the cancer cells.
"You know we
can't be together forever," she whispers.
"I am quite
content with being together right now."
As I sit here in her
bedroom, I notice the smell of cookies on her breath and the chill in her hand.
She's so beautiful, yet fragile, yet full of spirit.
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