Life was perfect. I had just confessed my feelings to the love of my life and best friend, and then you kissed me. There I was, thinking you would hate me forever, but you actually kissed me. And as I looked into those crystal-blue eyes of yours and ran a hand through that soft, brown hair, I knew that in that moment we loved eachother with all our hearts. Cheesy as it sounds, I loved, cherished, needed you and now I had you all to myself, I didnt want to ever let you go.
And so we went out together, kissed eachother, spent every moment we could together, and I still remember that one night when you took me by the hand and told me that you would always love me, that you'd always be there for me. I smiled under the soft moonlight and kissed you. You really did light up my life, and at that point, I dont think I could picture a world without you.
You took me out to dinner one day. To a fancy Italian place, the type where they'd probably kick you out if you didn't enter wearing at least a formal-looking shirt. The food there was ridiculously expensive, so we decided to order together. I offered that we got the spaghetti, and you agreed, blushing, because you knew exactly what I had in mind. You agreed, and we ordered the spaghetti bolognaise. I couldn't pronounce the name for the waiter, so you just laughed it off and said it for me. That's one of the things I love about you. You're so understanding, never one to judge.
The food arrived and I smirked, pulling a spaghetti strand from the bowl with my fork and putting one end in my mouth. I held the other end out to you, and you accepted it, blushing adorably like the cute maniac you were, and did the same. We kissed that night, lady and the tramp-style, and even though we got dirty looks from the homophobes, we didn't care. I giggled, blushing, and we finished our food together.
We were driving home that night, and I remember that I hit my head on the car-roof as I stooped to climb in the driver's side. You immediately rushed to me, kissing me and asking me if I was okay. I, of course, told you that I was fine and could drive, but you insisted that you drove us home. I sighed and said yes, knowing that you were too stubborn to let me say no. I smiled at you as you started the engine. Leaning over to kiss you, I thanked you for the night, true grattitude on my face, and you told me that the pleasure was all yours. I adored you at that moment. Always such the gentleman.
We were just at the red light, the one by the park we shot 'pokemon in real life' in, and pulled to a stop. I gazed outside the window, only to see a bright light, hear a loud scream and feel the impact of a car smashing into us.
A driver hadn't seen the red light, and sped past directly into us. I had a broken leg and some cuts and bruises, but you on the other hand, you were far worse. Your normally pale skin had been dirtied by dark bruises, and your own blood was painting your face red. Those eyes I loved so much were filled with pain and fear, so I reached a hand over to you and stroked your face. I told you everything would be fine and kissed you, even though we both knew it wouldn't be. Tears filled my eyes and began to fall down my face. You told me how much you loved me, and we hugged, me not letting you go until the paramedics demanded it.
They wheeled you into the hospital, taking you far away while muttering too many medicine names to take in. I tried desperately to follow from the confines of the wheelchair they'd put me in, but the doctors said I wasn't allowed to. I broke down right there and then. A nurse tried to comfort me, wheeling me away to get my leg treated, but I wouldn't be consoled. My love was terribly injured, and I couldn't do a thing about it. It should have been me in the driver's seat. I should have never let you get hurt.
When they did let me see you, I cried even more. Your body was hooked up to all sorts of machinery whilst you were covered in bandages. The fact that this was to keep you alive, it broke me. I moved over to you, kissing you like your life depended on it. You smiled weakly at me and hugged my shaking body, whispering in my ear that you'd always love me and watch over me, but when I layed you back down, all life had deserted your now-dull eyes, and the heart rate monitor gave out one, last long beep. I shook you, crying out for help, but it was too late. You were dead, almost only a week after we became lovers. One minute, you were happy and loving, and I thought nothing could ever go wrong.
But then, you were gone.
