Jun 3, 2017
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💔
Send me a 💔 and I’ll generate a number, 1-75, and post a starter based on what scenario I get: My muse tells yours that they have a terminal illness.
Geoff knew that he would have to break the news to him at some point. He had to know. He’d already hidden the doctor’s appointment from him and that had happened over a two months ago and had been holding onto the information for a good month. He didn’t have the heart to do it, to accept it himself and say out loud that there was an end.
He didn’t have to, he though. He could just let him read the medical jargon and continue to live in disbelief that what was going on had really happened. He shuddered at the thought, but straightened himself up. He walked into the kitchen, staring at how perfectly Michael seemed to fit into his lifestyle and how that was about to get disrupted. If he could just treasure this moment for a while longer. Being happy with him.
He slid up behind him, wrapping his arms around his slim chest and sighed against his shoulder. “Michael, I’ve got some bad news.” His voice wavered. He didn’t want him to turn around and see how much of a wreck he was about to be. “I went to the doctors for this thing I’ve been noticing and it’s a lot worse than I thought it would be.”