The Last Time

"Guarantee me one final thing," Aiden said, his voice scarcely in excess of a murmur. His pale fingers grasped the fraying edges of the sweeping that covered him.

Lily, sitting by his bedside, gazed upward from her book. She put it away and inclined nearer, her temple wrinkling with concern. "Anything."

Aiden grinned pitifully, his blue eyes glimmering with a combination of trouble and resolve. "Promise me that you'll keep writing."

Lily's heart sank. She had consistently realized this day would come, however now that it was here, she felt ill-equipped. "You realize I will. Be that as it may, — "

"No buts," he hindered tenderly. "You have a gift, Lily. Try not to allow it to blur since haven't arrived to peruse it."

Lily gestured, tears gushing. "I promise."

Aiden's hand shuddered as he contacted fasten hers. "Thank you." His look relaxed, and briefly, maybe the agony of his ailment had withdrawn, leaving just the kid she had grown up with.

They had known one another since they were kids, their lives entwined in an embroidery of shared recollections. From the dusty jungle gyms of their grade school to the peaceful library corners where they'd peruse and dream, they had been indivisible.

Presently, the clinic room was a glaring difference to those brilliant, clamoring places. Its clean white walls appeared to surround them, enhancing the feeling of resoluteness that lingered palpably.

Lily crushed his hand, her voice breaking. "I'll expound on you. About us. I'll ensure nobody forgets."

Aiden's grin was weak however certifiable. "That's all I inquire. Recollect the great times. Try not to allow them to be eclipsed by this."

As the days passed, Aiden became more vulnerable. Lily remained close by, perusing to him from his number one books and relating their common experiences. They talked less of his sickness and a greater amount representing things to come, of the things they would have done in the event that conditions were unique.

One night, Aiden's breathing developed shallow. Lily sat close, holding his hand, and murmured the narratives he cherished. The room appeared to pause its breathing as she talked, the words a delicate string interfacing them.

"Recall the mid year we spent by the lake?" she said delicately. "The fireflies moved in the sundown, and we attempted to get them with our exposed hands. You continued to chuckle at how awkward I was."

Aiden's eyes shuddered open briefly, a phantom of a grin contacting his lips. "I remember," he murmured. "You were consistently clumsy."

Lily giggled through her tears. "And you were consistently the person who knew how to fix everything. I never let you know this, however... I generally thought you resembled a performer. You improved things by simply being there."

He crushed her hand weakly. "I'm happy I could be that for you."

The night developed, and Aiden's breathing turned out to be more sporadic. Lily remained close by, her lamentable with each battered breath he took.

"Aiden," she said delicately, her voice shudder. "I believe you should realize that I will continuously be thankful for each second we had. Furthermore, I'll stay faithful to my commitment. I'll compose. I'll ensure your story is told."

Aiden's eyes were scarcely open now, however there was a look of tranquility all over. "Thank you," he said, his voice blurring. "I love you, Lily."

"I love you too," she said, her tears falling openly now. "Rest easy."

In the tranquil that followed, Aiden's breathing stopped. Lily stayed there for a significant length of time, holding his hand, attempting to ingest the tremendousness existing apart from everything else.

Days transformed into weeks, and the world appeared to continue on, apathetic regarding the void left by Aiden's passing. Lily found comfort in the commitment she had made. She emptied her despondency and love into her composition, making stories that observed Aiden's soul and their common recollections.

At some point, as she was altering her most recent piece, she found a little box concealed in her work area cabinet. Inside were written by hand notes and portrays that Aiden had made throughout the long term. They were loaded up with stories and dreams, scraps of their experiences and the world he had envisioned.

Lily's eyes loaded up with tears as she read through them. Each note was a sign of their bond, of the incalculable minutes that had formed their fellowship.

As she chipped away at her composition, she observed that Aiden's presence was with her in each word she wrote. His giggling, his thoughtfulness, and his unflinching faith in her capacities were woven into her accounts.

Eventually, it was not just about keeping a commitment. It was tied in with respecting a companionship that had molded her life, an adoration that had risen above the limits of reality. Thus, with every story she composed, Lily kept Aiden alive, his memory protected in the words that moved from her heart.

The world could have continued on, yet for Lily, Aiden's soul would perpetually wait in the accounts she shared and the fantasies they had assembled together.