Say You'll Share With Me | Phantom Oneshots

i wish we had more time

handholding prompt #6 - running their thumb over the other's hand 

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Nadir bustled about the small kitchen, busying himself with preparing tea for himself and his friend...patient? Whatever word was appropriate to describe the man in his care at that point. The samovar bubbled away—because Allah forbid he boils water on the stove in a kettle like anyone else—and he had already sliced the lemons he needed to sweeten their tea. Always just one lemon, cut into six wedges. Erik had been just as particular about every little detail as long as they had been friends, and Nadir had simply learned not to question it.

He couldn't help but wonder how much longer he would have to accommodate Erik's little habits and quirks. Not because he wished to be free of them—no, he had grown so accustomed to them that they were almost a comfort and were more amusing than anything—but he hadn't the slightest idea how much longer he had to spend with his friend on this earth. Erik had been laid up in bed ever since that fateful night in the same underground lair in which Nadir presently stood; the night that he and the Vicomte had almost lost their lives, only to be saved by the act of love Christine had shown to his poor, oh, so damaged friend. Nadir hadn't thought that Erik would even live past that night, but he had and was still clinging to life. He was stronger than most who had suffered three spasms of the heart, that was clear, but he was certainly not the man he once was, even just a week ago; Erik would never stay confined to his bed if he could help it in his younger days. Then again, time had taken its toll on them both, Nadir mused as he ran his fingers through his now-grey hair; the days of their energetic youth were long behind them.

The bubbling of the boiling water pulled Nadir out of his thoughts, which he was glad for, given their morbid nature. He never liked to ponder losing his closest friend for too long, which was part of why he had thrown himself full swing into caring for Erik. He hardly left the little underground home anymore, to the point that Darius, his ever-so-loyal servant and friend, had come down to check on him. Unhealthy? Perhaps, but Nadir refused to risk leaving even briefly, only to return to find Erik dead. He wouldn't let his friend be alone when his time finally came.

With a heavy sigh, Nadir leaned against the counter to compose himself, then collected two cups of tea and a small bowl of extra lemon wedges on a tray. Lifting it up, he set on his way down the hall to where Erik had taken up residence—the room designed for his beloved soprano—and reminded himself to be strong for his friend. Not that that was anything new to him; he had been putting on a brave face for what felt like his entire adult life.

As he stepped into the bedroom, careful to make as little noise as possible, Nadir couldn't help but smile in his friend's direction. Erik had clearly given up on waiting for his tea, as he had fallen asleep, head slumped forward, where he sat in bed, propped up with pillows. Setting the tray on the nightstand, Nadir attempted to slip one of the pillows away so his friend could lie back, but he stopped when Erik suddenly lifted his head and opened his eyes, heavy though they were.

"You should have stayed asleep," Nadir softly said, his brow quirked to express his displeasure as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"What, and let good tea go cold? Nonsense," Erik replied with a small smile. "Thank you for making it, Nadir."

"Of course." Nadir couldn't help but smile as he passed over Erik's teacup; hearing his friend use his name rather than something like "Daroga" or "great booby" was one change that his ill health had brought that Nadir could and would not complain about.

Erik lifted his cup to his lips, carrying most of its slight weight with his right hand, Nadir noticed; clearly, the left one was still causing him pain. "You know that you don't have to stay," he said softly.