Thomas Sangster Imagines

Donald 1

I sit quietly in a chair near his hospital bed. He never knew that I knew about his disease. I always wanted to talk to him about it. But the problem is that I'm scared. Not because I'll learn the truth from him. But because of the idea of him losing consciousness.

I always call him my precious, even though he always feel embarrassed because that's what his mum called him. But who cares? He's really a gem in disguise.

It always feel amazing when he'll hold me near and then play with my hair. Not saying anything at all.

I honestly miss him. The Donald I used to talk to at school. Someone who never feel embarrassed when seen with me. I'm always the rebel type of girl and it surprise the hell out of them when they saw us together, eating lunch. Smiling.

And his smile, it brings me sunshine. It makes me feel warm. It makes me feel like I'm home.

And until now, I still crave for that smile, that touch. The things we do together. I still crave for the times where he'll just sit there and look at the sky above us. Telling me about his dream of being a famous comic writer.

Every time he draws a comic strip, he shows it to me first. He said he never really cared about what others will say. All he will care about is what I think. Honestly, that makes me love him more. The way he thinks about my opinions is like the way you think about what your future will be. Like his life is everything I say.

Dreams. We made so many dreams together. He always ask me if I can teach him to ride my bike which I will answer with a big fat 'no'. I still can see how his face will crumple when I say he'll never make it to school in time, then he'll bet his lunch.

It always hurt me to think that life can bring you someone, making you love the way he is with you. Then pull him away. In a split second, I lost him. I lose a friend, a family, a lover. And it pains me to even look at his now closed eyes then say the words I always wanted to tell him.

Yes. I love the hairless quiet boy in class. I love the one who's afraid to live but not scared to try. I love the boy who loves being the hero.

Yes, I love Donald. And I still think he's with us. I still think that he's watching us, he's here. He's standing beside the bed, or maybe beside me. And I still think that he can hear us, he can feel our love.

But its all in my head now. I always pray for a longer life, for him. But life decided to throw us rocks. And I don't think I can still stand up after this. Not without Donald. Not without my life.

And now, I'm here sitting beside his hospital bed. Looking at his lifeless body. Wishing that one day, I will see the chocolate brown eyes I once loved.

Wishing I'll get to see him alive once again.

A/N
Sorry if the update's lame. At least I did my best 😂. So this is requested so, here you go! Tell me if you like it.

Picture reminds me of Donald standing at the beach. And I don't have a picture of Donald, so why not? Hope you like it!

Love lots,

Ysa