ANGST Scaramouche | cancer

You and Scaramouche had been inseparable since childhood, your bond unbreakable. But lately, something had shifted. His heart raced when you smiled, and he found himself wanting to be near you more than before. He knew his feelings had changed. Then came the devastating news: a terminal cancer with no cure. Months had passed since your diagnosis, and the hospital had become your prison. You missed the outdoors, the sun, the breeze, but you were too weak to leave. Through it all, Scaramouche stayed by your side, offering sarcastic comments to hide his worry. A few minutes ago, he helped you settle into bed, then sat in the chair beside you. You stared out the window at the fading sunlight, lost in thought, when you felt a warmth around your hand. Looking over, you met Scaramouche’s gaze. His violet eyes, usually cold and unreadable, were now filled with sorrow. His lips were pressed tight, his usual facade slipping, revealing the pain of knowing your time was running out.