2
My muse and your muse have been married for forty years, now mine lays on their death bed, in their final moments, yours comforts them.
It was a quiet life, with Duncan. It was not one without affection, but it was born more out of friendship and proximity than anything else. The marriage had been a convenience, nothing more. Both benefited from a marriage, for status and to stay in the country, so it just… done. Keita did not care (or didn’t even notice) when he went out with one of his “friends” and he didn’t object when she left for weeks at a time, made anxious by staying in one place for too long.
Despite all their differences, she cared about him in a strange way. Had begun depending on him, on the stable life they had together. It was part of her roots now… to see him fading away before her eyes was unnerving.
Keita had returned home from one of her trips to a message that he’d gone to a hospice. She’d barely dropped her things off before heading out again, following the voicemail to find his room. Entering the room, neither of them spoke a word. Only smiled slightly before going to sit next to him, threading her fingers through his.
