george ezra imagines - HIATUS

we've reached our last resort

g's pov

holding my wife's hand like i had been for almost a week straight was beginning to feel natural and routine. it kept both me and her feeling safe and connected.

"you got this, love."

i whispered, placing a small kiss on her forehead and sitting back down with a heavy thump from my buttocks.

"get in with me."

(y/n) shifted over a fraction in her hospital bed. there wasn't much room for me but it was clearly what she wanted.
i kicked off my dr. marten shoes and hoisted myself up from the armchair i was previously glued to. sliding under the loud bedsheets i placed my chin over my wife's head. our hands stayed connected and i knew we'd fall asleep soon.

the only difference was that i would wake up after it.

"i don't have it in me anymore, george. but as long as you're here, i am happy."

her weak voice made my whole body ache and sting.
she was letting go of life but i still wouldn't let go of her hand.

"this is it. our last resort?"

i continued to keep her energy going until the final moment.

"it's never final with us, it won't be long 'til we're reunited, my darling."

my smile was a mask for excruciating heartbreak. it was her last few minutes with me.
kissing her forehead ever so gently, i embraced her scent and softness for the longest i could.
my angel, taken from me so young. my wife, only 23 years old; my wife, on our first wedding anniversary.
her heart rate monitor flattened and the dreading tone of death stung.

"happy anniversary."

i whispered.

a/n: SORRY