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Carl was getting sicker and Ezra could tell. Stumbling on furniture, hands so tired he could barely hold anything anymore. The breaking point was the day Carl attempted to get up to get a cup of water by himself and fainted. “He’s gotten worse.” Ezra thought as he was caressing his husbands mostly gray hair with the tips of his fingers.
He’s always been eager to take care of Carl, willing to do anything to make him comfortable, even If Carl reassured him that he’s fine. They’ve been married for 45 years, soon 46 in just a few weeks. The pair knew each other more than anyone else and throughout those years Ezra has watched his partner as he grew old and… frail.
One thing became clear to him:
Humans don't last forever,
Neither would Ezra, but the fact that he was going to live many decades after Carl was making him anxious.
They talked about it many times before, what Ezra would do after Carl's passing, he was supposed to be prepared.
But no one’s actually ready for the day their partner dies.
The hospital air was nauseating, stench of medicine sharp and pungent, the monitor beeping in a way that it was drilling holes in Ezra's skull.
It was overwhelming, tiring, sickening and-
"Hey. you in there?" Carl mumbled while snapping his fingers in front of Ezra's face as he snapped out of it. "you were staring at nothing."
Ezra raised his head as he was adjusting his posture, switching his gaze over to Carl. "I was just thinking."
"All you do is think, big guy.” Carl grinned and put his left hand on Ezra's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. That wasn’t enough though, as Ezra was now just focused on Carl's arm, his breathing deep and frequent.
“Listen. I know you’re worried but.. there’s really nothing you can do.” He reassured, or at least tried to, as he gently rubbed Ezra's knuckles with his right hand. “c’mere.” He tapped on his own chest, guiding Ezras head to rest on it as Carl ran his hands through his long curls.
They stayed that way for a long while, till Ezra decided to slip away from Carl's touch, moving up to plant kisses on his temple.
Carl was a man of many words and Ezra preferred to be affectionate through touch. That's one of the things they liked about each other.
Another one was when Ezra would adjust his glasses with his thumbs (Despite not actually needing glasses, he just got them to make Carl feel better about getting older), and how Carl would hum while doing chores.
Ezra would miss those things… really, really miss them.
“Hehe..
Wait. I think- I think it's time for you to go” Carl said while trying to gently push Ezra off of him, like you would with a cat.
“Hm? Aw…”
“Yeah yeah, that's enough big guy, save some affection for when I get home”
“Alright fine-” Ezra lifted his head and began tidying stuff up a bit before he left. Adjusting the sheets, closing the blinds, those kinds of things.
“You sure you don't need me to do anything else?” He asked.
“No I'm okay, don't worry about it.” Replied Carl with that same sweet smile he always had.
Ezra moved closer, gently taking Carl's hand into his own, studying it. His eyes squinted at the lanky fingers in his grasp.
“Wait a few more minutes and they'll have to drag ya outta here..” Carl spoke as he gave his best rehearsed grin.
That seemed to snap Ezra out of whatever he was doing, hastily standing up to gather his things and head out. He rested his hand on the doorknob and before turning it he took one last glance at his loving husband.
“See you later.”
______________________________________________________
*Ring*
*Ring*
*Ring*
The bell of death tolled. God knows what happened after or even during the call, it was all a blur.
The only thing Ezra remembers is being in the morgue, holding those same lanky finger, except this time they were cold.
So so cold.