Your life had never really been smooth sailing. From a young age, you had to come to terms with the fact that your mother had left you and your father for money and fame. You had never met her. It was hard for a girl to grow up without a mother but you managed. Your father worked long hours and never seemed to have time for you.
Besides your bad home life, your life in school also was horrible. Kids picked on you for your looks. They called you fat, even though you were a complete twig. Nicknames and insults popped up all other the place and you didn't care for any of them. That is, until the bullying became physical. A bunch of mean kids cornered you at recess and beat you up.
From there out you ate in the bathroom stall and spent your time reading and writing. High school came around and you were still bullied. You changed your daily lunch spot to the janitor's closet, which they always left unlocked and never checked. Your hard work in school, however, paved the way to a decent university were you quickly excelled and graduated with a bachelor's in English Literature.
You wanted to be a writer for the biggest newspapers in the world. Your first job after college consisted of playing secretary for a real writer. You ran his errands, basically did everything for him except write the actual articles. You slowly moved up the ranks to reporter. The story they gave you, however, was total crap. "How London Plans to fix the Sewer System," you sighed as you began to type your article in a small coffee shop in London.
You began typing, glancing at your notes now and then. You finally finished and sent the article to the editors. Closing your laptop, you looked around the coffee shop. There was almost no one in the small shop. Your eyes however were drawn to a tall blond man ordering a pastry. He turned around and scanned the shop for a place to sit when his eyes landed on you. You quickly looked away and started to pack up your stuff.
"And what is a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone?" the man asked, sitting across from you.
"Working," you replied curtly.
"Woman of few words, huh?" he asked.
"I'm not comfortable with strangers," you stated.
"But straight to the point," the man smirked.
"Can I help you?" you questioned.
"Yes, I would like two things. Your name and your number," the man said. You raised an eyebrow at him and handed him your business card before booking it out of there. You didn't know why you did that, you acted on impulse. The man called you that night and you two slowly transitioned to acquaintances to friends to best friends to lovers.
Harry Kane owned your heart as well as your thoughts late at night. You two had reached the two year mark on your relationship when you began to notice changes with your body. For one thing, you were easily tired and had little energy. Harry, worried, drove you to a doctor's appointment to find out what was wrong with you. After a group of tests, the doctor returned.
"With your symptoms and these results from the tests, there are two possibilities for your condition. Would you like to know them?" the doctor asked. You nodded, grabbing Harry's hand in your own. "The first, and highly unlikely, is a rare disorder where your skin starts to reject moisture and you basically dry out from the outside. Highly unlikely, there have only been three ever reported cases. The second, and what I truly believe you have is . . . cancer."
You gasped as Harry's hand squeezed yours reassuringly. "W-W-What kind?" you asked.
"We will need to do a few more tests. Let's make an appointment for next week, by then the test results will be finished." You nodded and after making the appointment, drove home with Harry in silence. You both ate dinner quietly until you broke the silence.
"You don't have to stay," you stated.
"What?"
"You don't have to stay around and deal with this. It's my problem and I can deal with it on my own. I know how important your job is to you and I don't want to destroy it—"
"—I wouldn't leave you. I don't care if you have cancer, herpes, worms, whatever it is. I love you, (Y/N). You're still the same girl I fell in love with," he replied, grabbing your hand in his own. "We'll fight this together."
A week later you were diagnosed with Leukemia. You started treatment immediately but your doctors grew worried when the treatment didn't improve your conditions. Harry, without a second thought, poured his money into your treatment. Your condition started to worsen and you knew it was the end. Laying in the hospice, Harry held your hand.
"Harry," you called.
"Yes, (Y/N)," he answered, his voice barley above a whisper.
"I love you," you stated, smiling painfully. Digging through your pocket, you pulled out a necklace, the necklace Harry had given you on your first anniversary. You placed it in his hand and closed his fingers around it. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, Harry watched as the light left your eyes. Harry buried you, and visited your grave every day.
Six years after your death, Harry sat in a tux, waiting for the winner of the Ballon D'or to be read. "And the winner of the Ballon D'or award is . . . . Harry Kane." Harry stood up and accepted the award, smile on his face. Placing the award on the stand, he turned to the crowd.
"Thank you. I cannot express how stunned I am and how grateful I am. My competitors are also very skilled individuals and one of them could easily be standing in my place right now. I would like to thank my teammates, my coaches, and my family. But most of all, I would like to thank my late girlfriend, (Y/N), wherever she be, for her role in my life. She died six years ago of leukemia. This brings me to my next announcement. I am donating all of my winnings of this year, including tonight's additions, to research of Leukemia, in the name of my late girlfriend, (Y/N). Thank you," Harry stated. Wiping tears from his eyes, Harry walked off the stage. Looking up at the ceiling, Harry whispered, "This is for you, (Y/N)."
As he was praised by those present at the ceremony, you laid your hand on his shoulder. Harry felt your warmth and closed his eyes, remembering back to all the memories the two of you had shared. Harry later adopted an orphan girl with leukemia. Her name was (Y/N).