The Music Room - Ereri/Riren (SNK)

-Day 12-

"Ah, so...remember that song I promised to write for you?" Eren's asking in his scratchy voice the next morning. We reside at the piano; Eren hasn't met my eyes from the second I walked through the door. He sits to my left in his wheelchair (he can't even get up on his own anymore; my heart must be in pieces for every crack it's endured while watching his deterioration) and I'm on the bench. His trembling hands are folded in his lap, his eyes scanning the keys while mine stay on him.

"Mm-hmm," I hum in affirmation.

"Well, I started to write it." He stops to clear his throat, take a drink from the bottle in the side pocket of his chair. "But I'm afraid I never finished."

It doesn't take much contemplation to figure out he's telling me this because he knows he'll never be able to finish it, and the reason for this is painfully clear. He has days...if, honestly, not hours left. His breathing is audible, labored. It seems to take great strength for him to simply move, and much of the luster I'm used to in his irises has been nearly snuffed out.

Every time I merely think about him, I know it was idiotic of me to get attached, especially so quickly and easily. I know I should've turned and walked out of this very room the moment I realized how ill this boy is. Time and time again I've told myself how this friendship can only end in pain...

...but that never stopped me from staying by his side, and it was never fully because I was humoring him as it was because I wanted to. His body might be on the very edge of death, but his gravitational pull is stronger than ever. Eren truly resembles the sun.

"I-I can play what I did get for you, if you'd like, but-"

"Yes. Please."

"Are you sure?"

Finally, his innocent gaze falls upon me. His dark-rimmed eyes are the size of the moon; I have the strangest urge to reach out and caress his face, perhaps gently kiss his nose or his forehead...

"Certain," I say to interrupt my thoughts.

"Okay." A smile twitches at his lips. The Eren I know and have come to love is still in there. He will always exist despite his imminent death. For this, I'm grateful.

He begins playing as easily as always. The tune, while moderately soft, bears a darker undertone that has me leaning forward and closing my eyes to listen. It's soothing, but truthful. I feel it represents our relationship well, being honest about the situation but continuing, bittersweet, anyway...until it comes to an abrupt halt, leaving me wanting more but knowing I'll never get it.

I open my eyes. Eren's withdrawn his hands back into his lap.

"I wish I could've finished it," he sighs.

"I liked it," I tell him. I know he'll ask.

He never fails to smile in such a genuine way when I say things like that. I allow a slight grin back, but I don't feel it anywhere but on my lips.

"I'm glad."

"When did you find the time to write it, anyway?"

"Remember the first day we went out to the garden, and I said I wanted to lay down afterwards?" I nod. How could I forget? It was the first time you held my hand... "Then."

I narrow my eyes a bit playfully. "You feigned not feeling well to write?" I accuse, softhearted.

Eren shrugs. "Guilty." He laughs breathily. I shake my head. "Well, I'd also practice on other days before you got here and stuff." He takes a minute to swallow, clear his throat and adjust the blanket in his lap. "And well, there is this other song...I didn't write it, but while I was writing your song, it was sorta my inspiration, so to make it up to you, I could play it...if you want."