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Alex turned to John. His eyes were glassy and his free hand was clutching his stomach in a way as though he might throw up. "John," Alexander whispered painfully, every syllable strained.

"Yes, Alex?" John gave his hand an even tighter squeeze. With his free hand, Laurens put a wet, dark green rag down and wiped the sweat from his fiancé's forehead. After doing so, he looked into Alexander's eyes. They were a long way off from the deep blue they once were. Now they were a lifeless shade of periwinkle, as if both eyes were wilting flowers. "Alex?"

"Am I going to... die?"

2,247 words. Two major character deaths.