The Anatomy of a Parody Heart

a month

"Good place."

Enzo grins at him. "You approve?"

"Definitely." Dan sits down, on the park swing. Looks around. "Wow. This is all seems so long ago."

"Yeah." 

Enzo plonks himself in Dan's lap. 

Dan makes a little oofing sound.

The swing creaks.

"This isn't going to take our weight," Dan says.

"Yeah, it is." Enzo kisses Dan's cheek. Wraps his arm around him. "Just cos you're so heavy."

Dan lets out a muffled laugh. 

Enzo closes his eyes.

For a while, they are silent. 

The fresh air is cold on Enzo's face. Recently, he has become more aware of an ache - a dull, throbbing ache - coming from somewhere just above his ribcage. He touches it. Puts his hand on it. Feeling the outline of his scars through his shirt.

Dan puts his hand over Enzo's. His hand is warm.

"A month," Dan says. "I can't believe it's only been a month."

He lets the silence hang for a moment - then he says, "Enzo, my mum said that I could stay at the hospital, tonight - you know - if you wanted me to."

Enzo stares at him. 

My mum said that I could stay at the hospital, tonight - you know - if you wanted me to.

"Your - your mum said that?"

"Well, no. I asked her. I - er - I may've been persistant."

"Ah." 

Enzo looks at Dan. Looks at him - hard. 

And then - for some reason - bursts out laughing. 

He laughs so hard that his breath wheezes, and a stitch starts up in his chest. By this time, Dan is laughing, too, laughing and wheezing - and then they are lying, both of them, side by side on the rough tarmac - the swing forgotten. Cancer and hearts and I-only-have-a-week-to-live forgotten.

Enzo rolls up onto one elbow. Looks at Dan. Reaches out, and touches his hair. Buries his hand in it.

"I love your hair," he says.

"I love you," Dan says. 

And as Enzo holds Dan, as Enzo kisses him, he tells himself, over and over and over - this is not the end. 

This is not how it is going to end.