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They say in the last moments of your life, you'll have seven minutes of happy thoughts, but mine weren't filled with any grand adventure or fairytale ending. My seven minutes were filled with him—Gibsie, my joker—and for that, I was thankful.
I was floating in memories, vivid and warm, the kind that pulled at the heart in ways both beautiful and painful.
"I'm Gerard," he had smiled, so simple and soft, his cheeks flushed as he looked at me.
"I ah... kind of already knew that," I teased, glancing over at the teacher who had called his name moments before.
"So, what's your name?" he had asked, his voice light, but there was a shyness to it that made the heat rush to his cheeks.
"Aurora," I'd replied, feeling the same flutter in my stomach I'd felt back then.
"Aurora, like the princess?" he had said with a confident smile, making me laugh out loud.
I could almost hear the frantic voices calling to me, trying to pull me back to the present, but I wasn't ready to go. I wanted to stay in the warmth of these moments, where everything had felt simple and safe.
"Stay with us, Aurora!" The voice was distant, barely a whisper against the flood of memories.
"Right, I've got an idea," I had said once, trying to calm the nervous energy between us in class. "You ask five questions, and I'll ask five. Deal?"
He had grinned, nodding. "Deal."
I could still see his hands, his grin, the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled. We played rock-paper-scissors to pass the time.
"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" I had landed on paper, but he had gone with scissors.
"Score!" he had laughed, the joy on his face contagious, and I giggled, forgetting everything else for just that moment.
"Shit, why's she shaking?" A panicked voice cut through the memory, but I pushed it away, diving deeper into the past, where there was still warmth and love.
It was his birthday once. I had pulled two big bars of Dairy Milk out of my bag, a small gift but one that made him beam.
"I got you something. It's not much but... happy birthday," I had said, feeling a little nervous.
"No way! I love Dairy Milk!" He'd exclaimed, his smile lighting up the room. "We should just get married now," he'd added, laughing as he broke the chocolate in half to share it with me.
"Help her!" A voice cried, but I couldn't focus on it. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here with him, with the memories where I felt safe.
The first time we'd spoken about love, I had been so scared, unsure of everything. "I don't know what love feels like," I had whispered, my voice shaky, terrified of what it meant to be vulnerable.
He had lifted my chin, his eyes locking with mine. "Maybe I can teach you," he had said softly, and in that moment, I'd felt safe.
And then there were the moments that hadn't happened but felt real all the same. I saw her. My mother. She was holding a little boy with blonde hair, the spitting image of me, down to the curious eyes and the way he clung to her.
"Mammy!" the boy had called, wriggling in her arms, desperate to reach me.
My heart clenched in my chest. He couldn't be... could he?
"Mam?" I had whispered, my voice trembling. "Is that...?"
She looked at me, her eyes soft. "Yes, Aurora. It is."
My son. The son I never had the chance to hold in the real world, but now here he was, standing in front of me, his little arms raised, waiting for me to pick him up. I bent down, scooping him into my arms, my heart breaking and healing all at once.
"He watches over you, you know," my mother said softly. "We talk about you, don't we, Fin?"
"Yeah!" he said, his little arms wrapping around my neck. He was my mini-me, my little warrior, and I held him close, breathing in his warmth, something I'd never had the chance to do before.
"Am I... dead?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
My mother shook her head, her expression sad. "No, not yet."
"Then... why am I here?" I asked, looking down at Finley as he smiled up at me.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice soft. "But it's not your time."
I looked at him, at my son, as tears filled my eyes. A tear slipped down my cheek, and he looked up at me, his face scrunching in confusion.
"You're sad?" he asked, his voice so small, so innocent.
"No, not at all, my little warrior," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm just really happy to see you. Mammy misses you."
He snuggled into me, his tiny fingers playing with the ends of my hair. "Are you tired, little man?" I asked gently, and he nodded, his eyes growing heavy.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" he asked, his voice drowsy, a yawn escaping him.
I swallowed hard. "I don't know, Fin. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," he murmured, his words slurring with sleep. "I'll just keep watching you and Daddy with Nanny."
I held him tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, my little warrior."
"I love you too, Mammy," he whispered, and with that, he was asleep, his soft blonde hair falling over his face.
I knew this was it—the first and last time I would hold him. The tears came, silent and unstoppable, as I clung to him, to the little piece of my heart I never got to meet in life. I wasn't ready to let go, but they began to fade, my mother and Finley disappearing, as I dropped to my knees, sobbing.
This was it. This was goodbye.
______________________ A/N. Y'all it's currently 1:55 in the morning and I'm sobbing my eyes out at this stop it now.
