its always melancholy

Theory · 12-05-2021, 10:48 AM

Something far away in her ooze-addled brain registered the fact that Rhyme, too, was sick. And he was old. He might not weather this illness. If she was in her right mind, she would have realized immediately that this embrace may be their very last - but she was not in her right mind and hadn't been for a few weeks now. The illness had cost her so much and it would steal more from her before it was done. Theory whimpered and pressed herself closer to Rhyme's body. She could feel the sharpness of his bones, so close now to his skin. He had been wasting away right before her eyes and she'd been blind to it. A moment of prescience seized her and wrenched her heart violently: Yes. This was most certainly the end. As soon as she was certain, the knowledge left her. Strange gaps of time and amnesia had plagued her for the past few days. The illness was certainly worsening.

Theory pressed her forehead lightly into his kiss. "That makes it feel better," she murmured, her eyelids heavy with the gunk that had been streaming out of them. "Remember... when I beat you in that spar?" She laughed, but the noise was thick and wet with the slurry of ooze that she couldn't quite expel. It took so much work to clear her airway now. "But you've always been stronger than me. Always. I love you," she said, her breathing finally evening out as sleep took hold. That deep rest had evaded her for so long, but guarded by her father, she finally felt comfortable enough to let herself be vulnerable. Just for a little while.

"Speech"

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