Disclaimer: Well, I am Jonathan Larson, so obviously I own RENT... oh, wait.

...

hen I couldn't sleep, she used to make me close my eyes and let her draw patterns on the lids with her fingertips until opening them seemed like far too much effort.

When I didn't feel like eating, she used to cut up whatever food she could find into tiny pieces and make me eat them off her fingers.

When I couldn't stand to be around anyone, she used to lie on the floor of the loft and stare at the ceiling. Once, I asked her why she did it, and she told me she was being carpet. I didn't mind people so much after that.

When I dared to set foot in the kitchen, she used to lean on the counter and make sarcastic comments about my cooking until I was forced to kiss her just to shut her up. When I kissed her, she used to put her arms around my neck and thread the ends of my hair around her fingers.

When I got frustrated with any of my failed songs, she used to stand behind me and rub my shoulders. Before Mark saw her and mocked me for a week straight, she used to finger-comb my hair, too.

When I got mad at her, she used to deflate. It killed me to see her like that, so it was thoughtful of her to always get furious with me straight after.

When I left, she used to check the loft every day to see if I was back yet. She told me that after a month, she gave up and moved out of her apartment because it was too painful.

When she was sick, I used to check her apartment every day to see if she was okay. After a month I made her move into the hospital, just to be on the safe side.

When they told her she wasn't going to get better this time, she deflated. It killed me to see her like that, but it was worse to see her trying to put on a brave face for me.

When she got stiff and restless from lying around in a hospital bed all the time, I used to sit behind her and rub her shoulders. Sometimes I finger-combed her hair, too, and this time not even Mark mocked me.

When she kissed me goodbye when visiting hours ended, I held her to me and tried not to dwell on how fragile she was, or how her skeletal fingers could barely find purchase in my hair.

When she saw me every morning, she babbled so much about everything that had happened since I'd left the previous day, I had to kiss her just to shut her up.

When she couldn't stand to be around people anymore, I sat on her bed next to her and stared at the ceiling. When she asked me what I was doing, I said I was keeping her company. She didn't seem to mind people so much after that.

When she got too sick to eat properly, I cut up her rubbery hospital food into tiny pieces and made her eat them off my fingers.

When she couldn't stay awake anymore, she closed her eyes, and held my hand, and I tried not to cry and drew patterns on her eyelids until it was too much effort to open them again.

...

Review, and Roger will sing to you in your sleep. XD