Malvina sat on the edge of Barto's bed, the sterile hospital room suffocating her. The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a stark glow on the pale walls. Barto, once the life of every party, now lay there—fragile, vulnerable.
"Malvina," he rasped, his voice barely audible, "I never thought I'd end up here."
She squeezed his hand, her heart heavy. "You're strong, Barto. You'll fight this."
He chuckled weakly. "Remember when we used to sneak out of school to explore abandoned buildings? You'd find beauty in the broken windows, the graffiti."
"And you'd make up stories about the ghosts haunting those places," Malvina said. "You always had a wild imagination."
Barto winced, shifting on the thin hospital pillow. "I wish this was one of our adventures—a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered."
Malvina brushed his forehead, her fingers cool against his fevered skin. "You'll get better. We'll find a way."
He closed his eyes. "Malvina, promise me something."
"Anything."
"Live," Barto whispered. "When I'm gone, live for both of us. Explore, create, love."
Tears blurred her vision. "Don't talk like that."
"But it's true," he said. "You're the artist, the dreamer. Keep our memories alive."
Outside the window, rain tapped against the glass. Malvina remembered their rooftop escapades, dancing in the rain until dawn. Barto had always been her anchor—the one who dared her to leap, to believe.
"Remember the night we stargazed?" Malvina said. "You pointed out Orion's Belt, and we made wishes."
Barto smiled. "You wished for fame, and I wished for endless adventures."
"And now?" she asked.
He coughed, wincing. "Now I wish for more time."
Malvina leaned closer, her lips brushing his forehead. "Barto, you're not alone. We'll fight this together."
He traced her cheek. "Malvina, you're my North Star. Promise me you won't lose your way."
She kissed his palm. "I promise."
As the rain intensified, Malvina whispered stories—of their laughter, their secrets, and the constellations they'd named. Barto's breathing grew shallow, but his eyes held hers.
"Malvina," he murmured, "when I'm gone, find new adventures. Chase sunsets, paint murals, and dance in the rain."
"I will," she vowed. "For both of us."
And in that dim hospital room, Malvina realized that love wasn't just about shared moments. It was about carrying someone's spirit forward, even when they were no longer by your side.
So she held Barto's hand, listening to the rain, and whispered promises to the universe.
