note to self: do NOT think about hannigram growing old together and like old, old, like h is 96, will is 86, and h's sitting on a little chair by the window, the one he always sits, it's his chair, he just sits, looks out the window, just looks, trembling hands bringing a mug of coffee to his lips, takes forever for him to finish it, and Will looks at him, knows he doesn't have much time left and just goes to him, H looks up, smiles, kisses his hand, like hello, like goodbye, like my love, my love, there you are.