He's made cake. It doesn't look great - he learned how to cook rather than to bake, and besides, taste is more important, even if he is shit at judging it these days - but he tried his best to cover the mistakes up with edible glitter and such, making it even more of a hot mess. Still. He did his best. - Miles
@godworn
SHE DIDN'T expect a cake. Not because she thought he'd forget, but because with every passing year it's easier to slip and forget there's people that care about this day and don't simply acknowledge it as any other on the calendar. She can't tell if her forgetfulness is a tell-tale sign - that she's growing closer to death every day, that every turn of the year her fate is pulled up by skilled hands and examined to see if the right time for her sacrifice has come - still; a familiar yet unexpected warmth spreads inside her chest when she walks inside Miles' kitchen and sees the cake on the table. She doesn't even notice the imperfections (nor will she taste them; it'll be delicious, like every other dish he has ever cooked and she has ever tasted), her gaze completely captured by the glitter shimmering under the kitchen lamp and the intentions behind such a simple gesture.
She looks up at Miles and - and, they have such little time left together, don’t they. It’s not a rush against time, not when both of them are headed towards a fate they can’t avoid; rather, it’s a matter of knowing who will let go of the other’s hand first, leaving her or him to deal with grief and her or his future on their own. Chris knows it well. She looks at the cake and knows it might be the last one. Next April swallows might come back and there won’t be anyone sitting at this very table; or there might not be a guest running in, all wild hair and golden eyes and fires that can’t be extinguished. Inevitable; not quite sad. Simply a fact of life, as easy as breathing or knowing daisies are blooming between cracks in the concrete. And this, this means she will cherish this moment even more.
Another year, another number added to the count of her life, much longer than her face shows. A smile, brighter than any light, salvation dripping down her teeth and chin. It comes so natural to approach Miles, wrap her arms around his much bigger frame and hide her face in his chest for a while, hoping he can feel all the affection she’s giving him. Hoping he senses how thankful she is for this and every other moment.
