'Angst please.' [ does that one thread we have count as established ]
My muse has just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. How will your muse react?
Peter had gone straight to Harryβs. Heβd practically banged on the door and Harry had let him in without a word. He must have seen Peterβs tear streaked face, that or heβd found it worrisome that Peter was actually using the door. He never used the door.
Heβd settled himself in the living room, staring across to Harry. He knew he had to tell him. But he didnβt know how. He didnβt even want to let the words pass his lips. When heβd first found out heβd sucked ina breath, shaking his head insistenly at the doctor whoβd delivered the news. He knew heβd been sick. He knew something was wrong. But he hadnβt expected this.
"Harry. Harry I - I have to tell you something." He trailed off, trying to work out how to just say it. He let his breath out, biting his lip. Dropping eye contact with Harry, he stared at the ground, wringing his hands.
"Harry I have cancer.β He felt his stomach drop. Saying it was even worse then hearing it. He couldnβt look at Harry. He was having trouble keepig himself together. βIβm dying.β Ironic, considering those were the same words Harry had said to him, not that long ago.
