Chapter 15: The Sooner I Die (1/3) || Simon

[ July ]

Late July's sun rained on the lake ahead, reflecting its many colors in various directions. The weather's heat increased drastically this time of year, so I tested my skill building a swing for Ruith. Tugging on the braided cord, I gauged its firmness.

Ruith hopped down from the tree gracefully and without noise. He bit his lip to prevent looking too eager. "Are you a carpenter too?"

For him to think my skill was decent enough for me to be considered so surprised me. But I had to decline. "I knew someone whose dad would build these swing sets in the summertime. He taught me how when I was younger."

Slender fingers trailed down the cord I had woven and landed on the bench. Ruith looked at me with a candied color across his bronzed cheeks. "He must've been a great teacher."

My smile would prove the sadness in my heart, so I retrained it. He was.

Studying me, Ruith tugged on my shirt, pulling me nearer. I originally had thought clinginess was a quirk of his, but then Ruith had explained connection and intimacy were essential to elves, like how food and water were to humans. So, I tried to give him as much of that connection as I could.

But was it my fondness for him that influenced me? Or my guilt for what I would do?

"How is your wrist?" he sweetly asked. He pushed up my sleeve before I could answer him, and a slow smile spread across his face. Clearly, he was satisfied to see my arm bruise-free. "Why do you wear longer sleeves when the weather is warmer?" he then asked.

Gently, I retrieved my arm and lowered the sleeve. "It's to protect my skin. Humans can get a disease called cancer from too much sun exposure, so we wear something called sunscreen to protect ourselves. Buying so many bottles gets expensive, so I try to cover up as much of my skin as possible instead."

Fascination encouraged Ruith's stare. His starry gaze perceived me beneath the pale brown lashes, and his face lit up in that way it always did when I shared about my world. Although he was sometimes too embarrassed to admit how happy it made him, I noticed. And the expanse of his curiosity and desire to learn amazed me. I was curious about Ruith's world, too.

For different reasons.

Ruith sat on the swing while I went to gather the leftover materials I'd used to build it. When I bent over, I felt a tightening in my chest I couldn't ignore. My inhaler was in my pocket; I could fend it off, but I always hesitated to treat myself around Ruith. Because he worried easily and then became quiet. And when Ruith was quiet, I was left alone to recognize the severity of my condition.

The materials slipped from my hands, and I staggered away from the swing. "I'm going to collect some more tall grass to secure the bench," I managed to voice without a cough, but my throat was closing, and my lungs squeezing.

Ruith's feet hit the ground. "I'll come with—"

I waved my hand and strained a nervous laugh. "I also need to use the bathroom. Just wait here for me."

I held my breath as I weaved through tall foliage. It only encouraged the pain in my chest. My throat itched from within, as did my chest and back. A kind of itch that left one desiring to swallow crushed glass or anything else sharp enough to soothe it. I eventually found a comfortable clearing, hopefully away from Ruith's earshot, and coughed freely.

I remained in that fit until I managed to bring the inhaler to my mouth. Two heavily dosed pumps and I was temporarily cured.

Asthma would be a luxury right now. What I suffered from was more severe than that. Every day was a battle between coughing fits and constant suffocation. In the beginning, I'd only suffered the strain at night, but it had begun to debilitate me throughout the day, too. What I had was something even the military's genius doctors couldn't diagnose, something that couldn't be cured, even if I had the money.

I lowered my inhaler and spotted the blood on the mouthpiece. How was it that I wasn't surprised, yet my gut still tightened at the sight of it?

I was losing time.

There was a tissue in my pocket, and I used it to dab at my mouth first and then my inhaler. After pocketing both, I stood.

I stared at the sky, wanting to throw my voice at it in frustration, but Ruith would find me if I did that, so I held back.

"I'll be lucky if I live to twenty-three," I muttered. I doubt it. These next two years would be my last. Even the doctors at the base had predicted so.

It took me a while to gather myself, and then I returned to the swing where Ruith was already standing, fidgeting with one of his waist-length braids. He'd been waiting for me.

"Did you try it out yet?" I asked to break the silence.

Concern didn't suit Ruith as it controlled his frown now. It strained his ethereal features and made his full lips appear thin.

"I heard coughing."

I shrugged and tugged on the swing once more. "You know that happens sometimes."

"Did you hide so you could take your medicine?"

Frowning, I met his worried gaze. "I wasn't hiding. It just happened along the way."

As usual, Ruith was skeptical. And he had every right to be. I lied to him often.

"You don't have to hide it from me," he began. "Seeing you ill doesn't make me think any less of you. You're still healthy besides your asthma, right? If you take care of yourself, you'll be okay."

I fell trapped in Ruith's endless eyes. Sometimes the brown appeared so deep that I couldn't tell where the pupils started in his irises. As scary as they could be to anyone else, I was simply amazed by them. They had always looked at me fondly and been kind. And now, they encouraged me to tell the truth. I wanted to. So badly.

I wanted to tell someone, anyone, that I was scared. Of the pain…of what happened after death, of leaving my family behind. They were in the dark about my condition. I wasn't around nearly enough for them to notice anyway. I preferred things this way. I couldn't afford to make anyone worry.

"What's the matter, Simon?" Ruith pinched my shirt and searched my eyes. "You look like you want to say something."

I looked away. Ruith had the kind of gentle presence that elicited confession. And he wasn't the type to judge or make insensitive comments either. I needed to be careful if I wanted to keep my secret a secret. I didn't want Ruith worrying about me either.

"No," I eventually exhaled. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

Could Ruith detect my lie? Elves didn't have that power, did they? Now, even more than before, I was paranoid.

Ruith searched my expression longer, and I lifted my most convincing smile. Another lie, I know. But Ruith was pleased enough, and he smiled, too.

He returned to the swing. Looking over his shoulder, "Push me?"

"Of course."

I pulled the swing back, stepping on the tall rock behind me to gain height, and released it. Ruith bubbled rare laughter into the air. His voice was harmonious as if he were singing for my heart.

I watched him.

A few years ago, I had gotten accustomed to the truth that I would die soon. It hadn't bothered me much because I thought I could beat whatever infected my lungs. I'd been young, dumb, and delusionally hopeful. Even when I had encountered this forest, I temporarily believed I could find something magical to cure me.

What a dream that'd been. And in the real world, dreams didn't come true.

Plan b resulted in me taking steps to ensure my family would be cared for after my death. My family needed to survive without me.

But what about Ruith? A lonely boy who'd lost his brother and a mother he never knew. What was left for him, he described as princely duty. But duty couldn't love someone.

My sigh carried out the discontent in my broken lungs.

I wish we'd met when we were both younger, Ruith…

…then we could have at least had a few more years together.

CREATORS' THOUGHTS
_Haven

Things are going to start getting serious from this point. I did warn you all about angst...right? Well, I hope you're prepared for it! Also, what do we think about daily updates? Do you guys think I can do it?

comment 0 comment

Vote

SEND GIFT

Load failed, please RETRY