There were tears on Bickslow’s cheeks, his breath coming in shaky inhales and exhales as he tried to fight back the sobs that were trying to fight their way free, his fingers creasing the edges of the letters he was clutching. It had been a month since Freed had passed away, slipping away under a curse that had slowly stolen him away…first his voice, then his hearing and sight, and finally his life. It had been a long fight, a slow slide towards the inevitable, made worse by the fact that towards the end the only thing they had to connect them was their entwined hands. Freed hadn’t been able to hear him or see him, unaware of the tears and pleas, the curses that had fallen in stream from the Skeith mage at the end; nor had he been able to say his own farewells. At least that was what Bickslow had thought, but his partner had been more prepared that he had realised and the day he had lost the Rune mage, Porlyusica had gently pressed the pile of letters Freed had written before it was too late into his arms, the letters that said everything that Freed had not been able to say in those last days.
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Fairytail Drabbles
LosoweA collection of 5 Sentence Drabbles - a mix of fluff, angst, romance and everything in-between. The Ships/characters involved are written in the chapter titles.
