after four rounds of jose cuervo

He didn’t feel any different as the infused liquor trickled down his throat. Maybe his breath would smell a little fresher with the peppermint, but likely that was all that would happen. Nothing had worked so far and he had little hope believing that it would now. The worst part was he knew that it wouldn’t help his Bowen. That was why he had been drugging himself with every herb he had in hopes of finding some kind of relief, but nothing ever did.

Bowen whined softly as he begged her to keep holding on. He’d accepted they were watching the end of the world but he wasn’t going to lay down and die. (Well, at this point he might be, but he was trying to get better.) Haiku held onto Bowen like it might be their last night, which it very well might have been. The young man sighed heavily as he held Bowen, and she asked her raven to stoke the fire that kept the darkness at bay.

Haiku couldn’t even promise to make her well, he was far too sick himself to really take care of her like she deserved. He whined softly as he buried his nose into her fur, certain that death was coming for them. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t beat this.” He begged her forgiveness because he took all the blame himself. He should have found a cure, should have tried more potions, he should have done something.

"Bowen & Haiku"