viwrit3r
You always were something else, weren't you? Those eyes, too brown for your own good, and that old jacket that you loved to death - falling apart, but you didn't care.
Looking at it now, I suppose it was inevitable. That it would always end up like this - you, in a hospital bed, and me, on the outside.
Note: This is a work that has previously been posted on AO3, so if you follow me over there, it might look familiar!