❝︎︎ she's like sunshine incarnate, there's not a bad bone in her body ❞︎︎
────── 𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃,
𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙀 𝙎𝙒𝘼𝙉 is given one year to live
and decides to return home,
content to spend it with her father and sister
before she inevitably kic...
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"IN CASE I DON'T WAKE UP TOMORROW, YOU CAN HAVE MY COCOA PUFFS."
Charlie Swan shook his head at his eldest daughter, a fond smile on his lips, looking her over. She'd gained a little more weight, not much, but enough for him to notice. Thankfully. Her treatments made her far too skinny and seemed to suck the life right out of her.
Not that it mattered, she'd be dead in a year anyway.
"I'll stick with my Raisin Bran," Charlie said gruffly, taking her bags to her old bedroom as she trailed along behind him. "And I think Bells only eats cornflakes so—"
"—Hang on, she does what?"
Charlie stopped, turning to look at her, huffing out a laugh at the sheer disbelief written on her face.
"She doesn't like that sugary stuff you do. She think it's too sweet."
Elise shook her head, eyes wide. "We are totally half-siblings because there is no way I'm fully related to someone who's favorite breakfast cereal is cornflakes."
Charlie placed her luggage on the bed, resting his hands on his hips and looking back at her. "Unfortunately, that's the truth. You're blood related to us, but just know if you were adopted, I'd have returned you."
Elise burst into laughter, swatting her father's chest. "What, with a receipt? Is that how adoptions work?"
Charlie shrugged. "Pretty sure. I wouldn't know though, didn't have the option with you."
"Wow," Elise dragged out the word. "Dad, I'm actually offended right now. You're not being written into my will."
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "I'm truly regretting my actions now."
"Get out," Elise shoved him through the door lightly, the laughter still in her eyes. "You suck."
Charlie smiled down at her, leaning against the doorframe, but it faltered a moment later. He knew her nonchalant attitude was better than the alternative. She'd spent the first three weeks of her final diagnosis crying in bed, immovable.
Then one day, she was up and smiling and joking about her life coming to an end.
It gave Charlie whiplash but he knew his daughter. He liked to think he knew her better than anyone.
Elise Swan needed to laugh about dying. She needed to make jokes about her inevitable demise because it made the situation far less scary.
