The wind and rain howled something terrible outside the small house, rioting against the window pane as if demanding entrance. Tracy scrunched his nose, peering out into the darkness. The Human Plane was a messy place. Hardly ever had weather like this in Fairy Land. Still, he thought, sighing, this was where she lived. If she was here, he was happy, and that was all that mattered in the end.
He moved to her, and the clock in the hall struck some ungodly hour where magic in this world was abundant. He embraced her, unable to get the sound of the howling wind out of his ears, and she took sympathy for him. He hated this weather. It was dangerous and destructive and all too invasive. According to her, this was the third time this month a storm like this had struck, and the third time the door by the kitchen had started leaking. The rain was not welcomed in his Kat’s house, and it didn’t seem to understand that. She laughed at his absent observation and laid a hand on the back of his head; he stooped slightly and rested his chin against her shoulder.
She murmured how she loved him, how the storm would pass by morning and that it was nothing to be upset about; when he did not respond right away, she backed him up, smiling and placing a kiss at his lips, light and airy, the grin never leaving her face. She told him she wanted to see him happy, asked him what it would take. He told her that he was happy, so long as he was with her. The weather was just temporary, he reminded himself. He let the smile back on his face and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning towards the bedroom. It was so early in the morning, and they both ought to go to sleep.
She followed him to bed, where they sat together before they slept. Not a word was passed between them, but Tracy had never felt so comfortable as his fingers ran through her dark hair, de-tangling the knots the wet weather had placed there. Oh, she knew how to lift his spirits; she always did. She remained sitting upright, her back to him as she sat between his legs, but there was still a sense that she was wholly relaxed around him. No one had ever been so relaxed around him before, and it had taken some getting used to before he accepted it 0 her - but this was where they had ended up: together.
Tracy’s spindly fingers reached around her neck, raking her hair back. The sensation caused her to giggle and grasp blindly at his retreating fingers. When she looked over her shoulder at him, who had grinned cheekily in response, he could see it. It was there, in her eyes, utterly present and consuming. She loved him. She loved him, she cared about him, and she wasn’t going to hurt him like the other people had. She wasn’t going to shove him aside the moment she found he got on her bad side, she wasn’t going to disregard him, as he was so used to being. She was his, entirely, and it sent a flutter of joy rippling through his chest.
And even yet, that joy was undertoned by a creeping fear. Everyone got sick of him sooner or later. They got tired of hearing him, seeing him, putting up with him. Even those who he’d thought - quite naively, several decades ago - would never treat him like that had slowly disassociated themselves from him, until they decided that he wasn’t even worth lying to, telling him that they couldn’t stand him. In his heart of hearts, he wanted to believe she was different, that she would stay with him, but the fear crept through his chest, suffocating the joy he’d felt moments ago.
In a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew how to ensure her love for him was as strong as his for her. He had them switch, so that she was lying with her back against the pillows, and he hovered over her on his hands and knees for a moment before they settled. He lifted her body, holding her to him and she sighed happily. His fingers ran through her hair again with a soft smile and grabbed a fistful of beautiful black, twisting it into a rope around his fist and holding her tightly as he wrapped it thrice around her pale neck. He held her there for what seemed to both of them like an eternity and she stared up at him in shock and cloudy, disbelieving horror as he bent his head, taking her mouth in his as her last breath left. She was still.
It was only then, until he was certain, that he unwound her hair, being sure to smooth it out, free of knots, before he laid her back down. Carefully, as to not disturb her, he lowered himself to her side and slipped his arm beneath her head, pulling her close, so that her cheek rested against the flat of his chest, and he smiled down at his love, the blush rosy on her cheeks, eyes closed. She could have been sleeping, were it not for the dark, angry bruises that were already surfacing on her throat.
Tracy held her, and they were both happy. He was happy knowing she wasn’t going to desert him like others had. She was happy, he reasoned, to be with him like this now, to have had spent her last breaths in his arms - he, who loved her.