As tears filled Oliver's eyes, the past flashed within his mind like a blinding light. Memories flooded his senses, carrying him back to a time that stung his heart. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, immersing himself in the vivid recollection.

     It was 1896—when cities sprawled across once-lush grasslands, their concrete roads encroaching upon the greenery. Skyscrapers reached for the sky, their countless floors rivalling the clouds. Life had become more comfortable, and a carefree ease permeated the air. However, an unexpected event would shatter a man's heart within that same year.

     The night sky adorned itself with white, sparkling stars that stretched across the endless galaxy painted in hues of vibrant blue. A cold but tranquil breeze whispered through the lawns, causing the branches of trees to sway in a graceful dance. The chorus of crickets filled the air, harmonizing with the gentle rustling of the grass, moved by the wind.

     The labyrinthine streets of the neighbourhood lay deserted, holding no signs of life. Mansions had grown taller, their additional floors and expanding corners reaching the heavens. Roofs touched the clouds, and windows shimmered like the rising sun, casting a warm glow across the landscape.

     Within the grand mansion where the Remaining Podeshire resided, the chandeliers' light bulbs glimmered and shed a soft radiance from the high ceilings. A plush red carpet lay along the corridors, its fibres aglow with a rich crimson hue. The walls, fashioned from glossy and polished mahogany wood, caught the light, causing the portraits around them to gleam. Ornate mouldings and intricate trimmings graced every corner of the hall, adding faint sparkles to the surroundings.

     Oliver marched through the elegant hallway, bathed in the gentle glow of the chandeliers above. The light accentuated the whiteness of his receding hair and the lucent warmth of his golden eyes. With each step, his black shoes tread upon the plush red carpet. Wrapped in a soft and fuzzy brown furry robe, he secured the sash around his waist, and the fabric hugged him.

     Oliver turned to his left and halted before a door. With a deep sigh, he reached out and knocked on it twice, the sound echoing softly through the corridor. Holding onto the doorknob, Oliver twisted it slowly, revealing a glimpse of the other side. Smiling, he pushed the door open, stepping into the room. He then flicked the light switch on.

     Inside the room, 97-year-old Gregory lay on the bed, nestled beneath a white, woolly blanket. Deep wrinkles and lines etched his face, morphed by the unstoppable passage of time. His once-dark hair had faded, each strand transformed to a powder-white shade. His receding hairline mirrored the retreating shores of a drying pond, while his beard had become thin and wispy.

     Gregory's heavy eyelids fluttered as the door creaked open, gradually revealing his tired eyes. Upon seeing Oliver standing in the doorway, a warmth spread across his face, forming a welcoming smile. Despite the weight that burdened his body and muscles, each time Gregory laid eyes on Oliver, strength replaced his shuddering weakness.

     With a calm and gentle smile, Oliver walked forward and sat on the bed beside Gregory. His gaze dropped, focusing on Gregory's weathered palm, tenderly caressing and brushing it with his hand. In that quiet moment, the vibrancy of their shared history and the depth of their connection were enough to be felt on the skin.

"Oliver..." Gregory whispered, his frail hand gently cupping Oliver's cheek.

"Oh, Greg..." Oliver's voice softened, his lips forming a slight pout that reached his chin. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brows as he held Gregory's palm tightly.

Gregory peered into Oliver's face, studying the restlessness across his features. With a warm smile, he kindly inquired, "What's with the long frown?"

"Oh..." Oliver sighed. "...I... I'm just anxious for you, Greg. Seeing your condition churns my stomach. I want you to regain your strength..." His legs squeezed together. "...I need you to regain your strength... oh, please, dear Lord..."

"Hm..." Gregory released a long, deep breath through his nose, his gaze fixed upon Oliver, contemplating his words.

"Greg... I'm terrified," Oliver whimpered as his voice shook with fear. "I don't know what the future holds... most of the people I once knew... they're all gone." He sniffled, his words punctuated by the sound of his sorrow. "My father... our friends. They... they have departed for a better place..."

"Oli..." Gregory sighed, his weary eyes feeling heavy as they closed halfway through.

"Greg, please be with me..." Oliver's grip on Gregory's hands tightened. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "...Don't go..."

"Oli..." Gregory whispered. "...I must go, too, someday..."

"No..."

"...But, I won't let go of this promise I will make," Gregory continued as he beamed.

"A promise...?" Oliver's gaze locked on Gregory, with hope sparkling in his eyes.

Gregory nodded as he smiled. "Mhm..."

"...What promise?" Oliver asked.

Gregory squeezed Oliver's hand as he solemnly bid his vow. "...I tell you... as the end draws near... let not fear consume you, for I promise that when the time comes, the departed souls will welcome you with open arms. And we shall reunite in paradise and rejoice with everybody we know and love..."

"...I... I love you..."

     Oliver felt an intense weight within his heart as his spouse's words anchored him. Oliver leaned closer to Gregory, embracing him tightly, burying his face against Gregory's chest. Their arms knotted together, refusing to let go—as if time had frozen in their deep hug.

     As Oliver and Gregory held each other, their bodies pressed together, and their hearts joined. In the depths of their embrace, they found solace and a refuge from the world. It was as if they had discovered an eternal peace, a serene haven within each other's souls.

"...I love you, too..." said Gregory. "...Oliver."