Any day now.

You volunteer at the local hospital. Your degree requires some form of community service so you mop the floors and you scrub the bathrooms for no pay at all.

On your breaks you try to study, but find yourself looking at the digital display on your bracelet.

Three days.

Your heart pounds with a painful longing every time you look at it so you wear long sleeves to cover it up, but in the end you push them up to your elbows and watch the hours tick by.

Three days, some odd number of hours. Minutes. Seconds.

Your entire life has been leading up to this moment. Since your wrist was big enough to hold the bracelet you've watched the numbers go by and dreamt of that special someone who will sweep you off your feet.

Finally, your dreams are about to come true.

Any day now.

—

The girl in room 324b fascinates you.

She smiles and waves every time you go by with the mop. Despite her hospital garb she wears lots of jingly bangles and more rings than you think is probably necessary. Her dreadlocks are twisted back into a kind of bun. Cat eye spectacles frame her bright eyes.

Her smile lights the halls. You just grin nervously and continue on your way.

You pretend you don't feel your stomach flip at the sight of her. That's how it starts, they say. If you see the one before you meet them, you'll still know. You'll feel it.

You try not to feel it because her room is located in the terminally ill ward.

—

You stare into your coffee each morning and try to conjure a face. The face of the one who will be yours for the rest of your life.

You concentrate and imagine all of the things you love in a person.

However, despite your best efforts, that bright smile from room 324b always enters your mind.

You knot your fingers in your hair and groan, stomach twisting.

You are so fucked.

—

Today is the day.

You take your break five minutes before it's meant to happen. You sit on an old wooden bench outside the hospital and try to breathe evenly. You bounce your legs and fiddle with the hem of your shirt and look anywhere but at the digital numbers counting down to your fate.

You've been alone for so long. Finally, the loneliness will be gone. You will have someone to share your morning coffee with; someone to make love to until you both fall asleep. Someone to kiss awake again in the early, misty hours.

Someone to go to the park with. Someone whose hand you can hold.

You smile and wipe the tears from your eyes.

One minute left and the sky opens up, releasing tears of its own upon you. You can't be mad. You're euphoric.

"Hey there, lookin' a bit wet. Wanna share my umbrella?"

Suddenly, it isn't raining anymore.

Technically it is, but when you look up there's an umbrella shielding you. Holding that umbrella is a slender arm, and attached to that arm is the girl from 324b. She's dressed in normal clothes instead of the usual hospital gown, and she directs the full force of her heart-stopping smile at you.

A shrill beeping distracts you both. You lift your wrist and look at the flashing numbers.

It reads 00:00:00:00:00:00.

You look back up, and she's staring intently at her own wrist. She feels you looking and laughs.

"Wow, awkward. Um. I'm Cosima?"

You stand and hold a hand out. "Delphine," you whisper. "Enchantee."

She takes your hand firmly in hers – doesn't shake it, just…. Holds it.

She's so warm.

"Enchantee," she says back, and there's a certain… look in her eyes.

And suddenly, all of the threads that keep you on this earth connect back to her.

—

You both sit on the bench for a very long time. Silent. Absorbing.

She still holds your hand. In her other she holds the umbrella at an angle so it covers you both.

"So… I know that you've seen me…. In there." She jerks her head back, indicating the hospital.

"You're ill," you blurt out. She laughs. Sobers. Nods, slowly.

"Yea."

"Well, why… why are you out here? You look like you're ready to-"

"To leave, yea. That's what I was doing. I didn't wanna meet my… my soul mate dressed in a hospital gown. I didn't want them to know I was… sick. Guess it was pretty pointless. You already know."

"Yes." You look down and watch the rain drops make rings in a puddle. You turn back to her. "So, what… ah, what is it?"

"Some mysterious respiratory disease," she mumbles. "They don't know what it is or… or how to get rid of it. They just know it's… pretty fatal."

"You should go back in," you say, "let them keep trying."

This gets a rise out of her. "Absolutely not! I will not spend the only time I have with you laying in a hospital bed. I want to… to love you, Delphine. I can't do that when I'm being pumped full of drugs."

Another long silence. She laughs suddenly, bitterly. "What rotten luck, huh? You spend your whole life waiting for that one person, and it ends up being me. How fucked is this?"

Now it's your turn to get emotional. "No," you say fiercely, moving to crouch in front of her. You rest your hands on her knees. "No, you listen to me. The sickness? It does not matter. At least I got to find you first. At least we have some time, rather than none at all. I am lucky, Cosima. Do you understand? So lucky."

She looks away, and for a moment you fear she might be crying. But then she turns to grin at you. "Let's get some ice cream."

"Ice cream?" you repeat, puzzled.

"Yea, dude! I've been living off hospital food. I could really go for, like… an eskimo pie or somethin'."

"Cosima, it's raining. And freezing."

"Aw, c'mon!" She stands, begins to leave. Your heart wrenches momentarily, but then she has your hand again.

She won't leave without you.

"Live a little," she says, winking.

Live a little, indeed.

—

By the end of the day you can't keep your hands off each other.

Maybe it's the knowing. The knowledge that you are meant to be together – it was literally written in your DNA, coded inside you forever. Or maybe it's the fact that you don't know how long you have with each other. Whatever it is, it is strong, and the desire consumes you both.

You bring her to your off-campus apartment. She's looking at you with hooded eyes. You reach up tentatively to pull the glasses from her face. She squints. You giggle.

"I'm a little bit blind," she admits.

"That's okay," you say. "I will guide you."

"Wow, romantic," she says, and abruptly pulls your shirt over your head. She then discards her own sweater.

"Well, the French are known for their expertise in romance," you breathe against her neck. She tugs at your waist band.

"Yea?" she asks.

"Mm."

She pulls away for just a moment and grins at you. "Show, don't tell."

And that is all you need.

—

She looks so small.

Most of the time you can't even tell she's sick. She's so full of energy, light. But as she sleeps here in your bed she seems very fragile; mortal. Her skin is white; her breath comes in uneven, rattling bursts. Her hands tremble against the sheets.

You wrap her up tight until the quaking stops and vow to never let go.

—

"Cosima," you breathe the next morning. You kiss her shoulder first. Then you work your way up, mumbling her name in between.

"Mmph," she grunts. You smile fondly and rub circles in her arm until gooseflesh forms. She shifts a bit. "Mmwhat?"

"Come away with me," you whisper. She just looks at you. "Let's run away. Just…. Be together… for whatever time we have left."

She squints, brow furrowed. "What…? What about your degree? Your… your classes?"

"I'm taking a year off," you declare. You spent all night thinking about it and you've made your decision. "You are what's most important."

She grins teasingly. "You know we've only just met, right?"

You roll your eyes. "That does not matter and you know it."

"Okay, okay, I know," she laughs, holding up her hands in defense.

You snatch one hand out of the air, entwine her fingers with yours. "Say you'll go away with me?"

"Of course. How can I refuse?"

You're soaring.

—

There isn't a song in existence that Cosima Niehaus doesn't know the words to.

She sings at the top of her lungs, voice cracking and breaking off into giggles. She rolls down the window and howls into the night.

She is revelry. And life.

And everything you've ever wanted.

—

You get a hotel room but you don't use it for sleep.

—

Each night she spends coughing up blood is another hole in your heart. You hold her through the retching and think Please God, not yet. I've only just found her. Please.

Not yet.

—

"Don't go without me," you whisper brokenly.

"Never," she replies, and kisses you hard.

—

"Aw, dude," she yells, pointing. You're walking through some unknown small town in Michigan.

You follow her gaze and spot the object of her excitement. A carnival, complete with a Ferris wheel and the scent of fried food.

"Aah," you say. You pull her close and nuzzle her shoulder. "Shall we go?"

"Hell yea!" You let her go and watch her run ahead of you. Your heart pangs at her departure and you shake your head. Get it together, she's not going anywhere.

Not yet.

—

Everything is prettier from up here.

The sun is just beginning to set; you can see the streaks of red and orange perfectly.

The breeze is cool.

Her head rests in the crook of your neck as you hold her close and wait for the Ferris wheel to start back up again.

You hope it never does.

—

She goes into a vicious coughing fit late that night. You sit up beside her on the bed and wrap her in your arms. You rock her gently back and forth and sing "You Are My Sunshine" in her ear.

Her breathing becomes labored. You sing a little louder.

Please don't take my sunshine away. Oh, please, God.

And that is how the hotel staff finds you hours later, long after Cosima has stopped breathing.

Please don't take my sunshine away.