Terror Twin [Def Leppard] #Wattys2016

XVII: You're So Beautiful

Phil folded up the last of the paper bags, shoving them in a cupboard and heading out of the kitchen. He had just finished putting the groceries away when Steve had called, and now he was almost ready to head back out.

Steve and Phil hardly had any time at home anymore besides sleeping, as at least one them was almost always at the hospital during the day. Phil missed having the day to lounge around with his love.

Phil trotted into their bedroom, snagging one of the old notebooks scattered around, ripping out any used pages before tucking it under his arm. He paused, feeling the tug to go through the few written-on pages before he left.

The first one was gibberish, a shopping list it seemed. The second and third were about the same. There was some notes jotted down on the fourth that Phil figured were lyrics to something he had never bothered to pick up again.

If you've got love in your sights, watch out. Love bites.

And that's all he wrote, Phil thought, frowning. He liked it, the grand two lines it was.

He'd bring it to Joe and see if he could do anything with it for the new album.

There was only one piece left, and Phil flipped it over to see the used side.

"Huh..?" Phil found himself asking aloud, realizing this was not his handwriting.

It was messier than his own font, almost rushed, hasty fingers scrambling to pour out every thought in the skull before they dissolved into mist.

Phil began to read.

December 14, 1983.

Dear P̶h̶i̶l̶ my love,

Thank you. Thank you for everything you've ever done for me, helping me with a̶l̶c̶o̶h̶o̶l̶i̶s̶m̶ my addiction. I know it isn't over yet but I p̶r̶o̶i̶m̶s̶e̶ promise to you and all the guys that I will fight and get through this.

Phil felt himself tearing up.

"Oh, Steve.."

But if I don't, remember I love you. You w̶o̶n̶'t̶ shouldn't be reading this unless I'm dead, or you find it. But I won't lose this fight

There was a long paragraph so terribly scratched out Phil couldn't make out what it said. He desperately wished he could read it. The letter picked back up on the bottom.

I love you, Phil. If I make it through, I promise you I will marry you.
if you want to of course

With love,

Stephen Maynard Clark

Phil didn't know how to feel. All he knew is that Steve's signature was the most beautiful one he'd ever seen.

He wants to marry me.

Phil shoved the papers in a drawer on his side of the bed, grabbing a couple of pens and the notebook, pushing the piece of paper with the lyrics on it between the covers. He dashed out of the room, trekking back out to the car and making his way back to the hospital, but not before shoving the letter from Steve in his pocket.

The twenty minute ride gave Phil time to gather his thoughts. He felt wonderfully overwhelmed, but even with so much to ponder about his future he couldn't think straight.

The drive was over before Phil had cleared anything up.

Phil knew he wasn't supposed to have found that letter. I should just forget about it.