Her breathless kiss.

(Trigger Warning : includes themes of violence and death)

She had stopped breathing; he was sure now.

Though her lips were still warm, when he kissed her gently there was no soft breath. He held his lips there, just touching her mouth, a moment too long. She was gone.

He had done it. It was over.

Sitting next to her on the bed he looked down at her not knowing what he felt now it was done. She didn't look that different. If he hadn't kissed her for too long, he could have still convinced himself she was there, sleeping, as he had watched her do many times previously.

He felt sadness now, a deep and unexpected sadness, as he remembered those times he had been outside her bedroom window, looking in at her on the bed. So many times, he had been there, often late in the evening, as she lay down to rest after her day.

He wondered how often she felt him just looking in from the garden at her. She never seemed to know, but perhaps she felt him there at times. He wondered if she could understand his feelings about her as watched her attend to her banal end of day routines.

She would surely be happy that he found her beautiful, though she might not like to admit it.

If he was being honest, there was definitely a sexual element to his feelings. Though she was not as young as she once was, when he looked at her just being herself, just the way she moved he found arousing.

But mostly her beauty to him was not a sexual thing. Her beauty was a warming feeling, it was the reassurance her presence brought and the way her smile made him feel. The way her hair moved.

She was not moving now of course, but she still looked beautiful to him. Her arms were relaxed at her side, her legs straight on the bed, she had barely moved as she died. She was not smiling, but her face looked calm.

Which was strange to him, given ugliness that came before this. He knew she had suffered, he tried not to think of it now, hoping to let this moment last a little longer.

He touched her cheek. It was still so soft, smooth. He thought he might cry, it was so tender to his touch, and it was hard to believe she was not alive.

Her breathless kiss.

There was no longer her voice, never would be. Not without her breath. He tried to remember the last words she spoke to him, before today anyway.

He would remember her last words forever too, but for now he tried to focus on the many, tender, things she said before all this.

The time before today, when her words meant something different. At least to him, especially to him he meant.

They were a collection of such normal sounding interactions.

They had unexpectedly bumped into each other after she finished work one day. She was tired, she needed to talk to someone, it had been a hard day. He was there and he was happy to listen. She seemed to genuinely appreciate his efforts.

He had commented on the day; she had spoken about where she wanted to be. He had agreed, he encouraged her, tried to get her to see that things were OK. She could trust in him, in them together, and she did not need to be afraid.

He followed her to work another day, she was working nights and had begun walking to work. The nights here were sometimes just not safe, he thought, especially for a young woman on her own. He felt she was safer with him nearby, and he watched her into her work before he went home on his own.

He had come to understand now that life's connections were the result of fateful coincidences. Their meeting had been coincidental, almost meaningless. On that day it almost meant nothing.

But also, everything.

That coincidence, that chance meeting, in his mind shone with a light that some would call spiritual. Not him, but some. He looked at her now, paler of course, and the glow of that day now became intense.

This coincidence led to another, and then another. The series of coincidences became a connection and he knew he felt before she did, but it was definitely true.

Eventually their connection could not be broken. There were some who had tried to convince him what was happening was not right, it would pass, and he need to understand this.

They said they were worried about him and what was happening, that he needed to let it go.

They had of course been wrong, and even the naysayers had come to accept his feelings. They now tried to discourage him from today, tried to convince him there was another way, but they again were wrong.

He had no choice. It had become too hard to watch. He had fought against it for so long, but eventually he came to realise she was right, and this was not about him.

The physical pain she felt was difficult to watch too, but her anxiety, fear and sadness hurt him more. Her tears caused him pain, just to watch. Her gentle sobs so often at night.

Early on they had been more confident.

The tumor was found by accident almost. She had been feeling a little tired and had a checkup for something else, when they found it, but the doctor reassured them it was small and probably local, so things could be all right.

For a while things were normal, but not for long. They took the overseas trip they had planned, despite the news, expecting to find out all was fine when they got back.

Even though the tumor was small, it had spread, a lot. That explained the fatigue. It was in her bones; it was in her liver. There were spots in her lungs.

The chemotherapy did nothing, other than make her sick. She was thin already and became like a skeleton through the chemo. She didn't stick at it, despite his pleas. She knew the truth before him.

Come to think of it, she always did.

After that there was a relatively peaceful and relaxed time. She put on some weight. They went back to visit some of the places they had been before, over their journey that was a life.

They had been together for many years but never married. Neither of them thought it necessary. He asked her to marry him after the chemotherapy stopped, but she said no.

It would not make her love him any more than she already did, she said, and they laughed together.

He wished things would stay there forever.

He bargained with the god he did not believe in.

It didn't last.

The tumors were aggressive now, more so than before. He hated the tumors. It was like they wanted revenge for attempting the treatment. They attacked hard, but not hard enough to make it end.

They were monsters that wanted to see her suffer, and that's how she described it to him when she begged he let her go. It was legal now, so he agreed, though inside he was lying.

He went through the process with her. Met the doctors. They explained how it would work, how it was done. They agreed she did not need to suffer forever. They gave their approval; he arranged the medications.

They would have everything ready, just in case, but would keep going so they could be together. Having the way out ready was the relief they needed, even though they would not need it.

That's what he told himself anyway.

He knew quickly that he remained in denial but fought hard to stay that way.

She began talking about it, and he would change the subject. She made him promise he would look after her, make sure when she was ready, he would help her. He assured he was, then changed the subject.

Eventually however, he listened to her properly and understood her pain. Her physical pain, the loss of her independence, the people disconnecting now through fear.

She told him she had to go, that it was time. She told him she loved him, that she would miss him forever, but could not watch him fade away before her eyes.

"Me fade away before your eyes?" he had said.

She explained to him, and he finally understood he had no choice.

Each day, she said, she felt herself getting further away from life and further away from him. She had come to believe eternity would be how she felt as she left, and she was feeling more and more alone.

She needed to go now, whilst she was still connected to him, so she could feel like that forever,

Each day they waited would mean she felt more alone. Soon she would be trapped, alone, like a fading photo waiting to be forgotten.

The thought of her being alone, feeling alone, forever was more than he could bear. More than watching the pain, the vomiting, the crying.

He understood this now and that is why he had to act.

She had smiled at him as he gave the injection. She said thank you and kissed him, then lay down again. He began to cry, and she reached out and stroked his hand as she left.

Then she was gone. And he was alone.