Cold Hands

Her hands were cold underneath the covers. Not because it wasn't warm under there, his body heat was radiating its warmth onto her. She's just been feeling cold these past few hours, but she hasn't told him that. They just stayed inside of their bed, cuddled up against each other. Sometimes they'd do this for hours on end. She didn't mind that he would insist on doing this some days. He once broke the timeless, soothing silence between them during one of these times to tell her he likes keeping her safe with him wrapped up in these blankets. After that, he had tightened his grip on her.

One of her arms were tucked under his torso, the other laying lazily on his chest that rose and fell back down again in a steady pattern. He was holding her body in one arm, cradling her like a baby, while holding her hand with his free hand. Her hands were still cold, though. Their legs were intertwined underneath the covers, her smooth legs occasionally brushing up against his manly ones. But of course, his feet were sticking out of the covers. She had noticed he did this the first time she slept in the same bed as him. He had most likely done it since he was a child, actually. She never bothered to ask, it was just another thing she secretly loved about this boy. Along with how he sometimes squints his marvelous emerald eyes while concentrating on hers, which are a deep blue. Like the ocean, she thought about the conversation they had had about her eyes on Christmas. The one they had spent with her family. She loved the little silent words he muttered to himself while he was reading. She loved his voice in the morning. It was raspy, but a soft kind of raspy. She loved how he'd kiss away her tears when she cried. How he'd twirl his hair in an almost girly way when he was being sarcastic. How he'd tell her how much he loved her before falling asleep. Before waking up to harsh reality.

"I love you." She said to him, looking up, but not quite able to see his eyes.

"And I love you more," he then said simply. "More than there are words to express my love."

He'd always been a poetic boy, another thing to add to the things she loved about him. She had gotten used to it when he started to express his love for her through poetry. Not only poetry, though. No, he could sing. He wrote her songs all of the time. He had written her songs about love, life, the future and anything else. That isn't what makes the songs special though. It's that he wrote about their love, their lives, their future and anything else that had to do with them, or just her. Yes, there had been songs written about her, too. Just her. Ballads about how she laughs, folk-y songs about the way she walks, a cappella sung lyrics about the way she looked that night.

He started humming barely audible sounds close to her right ear, which was now resting on his chest. She liked it like this; she could hear his heart beating. Thump. Thump. Thump. She stopped listening to his beating heart and listened to the string of notes he was humming sweetly to her. It took her a few seconds, but she was able to make out what song he was now singing oh so beautifully to her.

And she cried

Kiss it all better

I'm not ready to go

It's not your fault; love

You didn't know

You didn't know

She cried at the sound of their song. He hadn't written this one, this was a song they danced to after a fight. This was the song they had their first dance to at their wedding. This was the song they would've sung to their children to get them to go to sleep soundly at night. This is the song he said he'd sing to her when it was time for the medication that the doctor had given to her to take its full effect on her brittle body, finally setting her free from this scarred, bruised and battered body.

He holds on to her memory

All it is, is a memory

Hey, hey

He cried

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

"I will." She breathed. He kissed the tears rushing down her face.

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

"I'll always love you." She said. She started to sing to him, looking deeply into his eyes.

Kiss it all better

I'm not ready to go

It's not your fault; love

You didn't know

You didn't know

He then sang in unison with her, still staring into her beautiful, ocean blue orbs.

Stay with me / Kiss it all better

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

Stay with me / Kiss it all better

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

Stay with me

Until I fall asleep

Stay with me

"I can't kiss it better this time, my love." He sniffled, tears falling down his cheeks and onto the pillow. He was holding her lifeless hand, the same way he'd been holding it for the past few hours. She was gone. She wasn't breathing. Her heart wasn't beating. She died singing a love song with the love of her life. He hadn't notice before, but her hand was cold. Oh, it was so cold.