what haunted him most was the fact that this all applied to you. the fragility that came with being mortal terrified him, but not because he did not wish it on himself. but as he lay his head over the cage of your ribs and felt the rise of your chest with each breath, he was jerked out of his comfort by the realization that they too were numbered. the steady thrum of your heartbeat that made him remember that there was something worth living for was going to stop, inevitably so. and it was unfair. it was all too cruel, knowing there would would a day when the hands of yours that touched him so tenderly submitted to the itch of decay. even the love that you held so deeply would escape by way of your soul. every ounce of his being despised it.

but he had to remember that you were here now. your delicate fingers were solid and warm, and the rise of your chest was as steady as ever. sure, your heartbeat had become mildly erratic, but that was only due to the intensity of which he studied you. making you squirm under his gaze was not intentional, he just felt the need to burn the sight of you into his eyes and remember the present. remember that you had not faded just yet. not like all the others.

and he would fall asleep tangled in your limbs, let the breath of love life consume him and lull him into temporary slumber. he would whisper sweet words that did no justice to how he felt, but were heavy on his tongue. he would remind himself that he still had the capacity to speak it, and you had functioning senses to hear and appreciate it as deeply as he knew you did.