BROOKLYN knew that the last thing he should be doing was exactly what he was planning on doing. And he didn't know why he was standing outside of a hospital room holding a dozen white roses which he had picked up from a store on the way here, when it came to Avery he never truly had been in control of his own actions.

He tapped the sole of his shoe nervously on the ground wondering if he didn't look casual enough, he didn't need her to know that he'd planned everything meticulously on his way here, how he would act, the surprised expression on his face when he saw her and the effortless outfit he had spent hours deciding on. A plain white shirt, black trousers and a maroon jacket, he hoped that it would look like he had stumbled upon the hospital and somehow found her room, unlikely, but maybe if he was lucky, believable.

"Can I help you sir?" A woman, around her late thirties with eyes that crinkled on the side signalling she'd done a lot of smiling in her life appeared in his line of vision and it was only then that it hit him that there was no turning back now. Not if he didn't want to replay this moment for the rest of his days wishing he had the courage to step inside the room.

"Yes, I'm actually here to see Avery Harlow, she's a patient here, we're old friends but I didn't know what the visiting hours were."

A blatant lie, he'd had the visiting hours of Fairview Hospital memorised for hours, but she didn't need to know that.

He realised he'd done it again when he looked up and saw the slightly bemused look she was giving him, he'd allowed his imagination to run wild imagining thousands of different scenarios that would greet him behind the door they stood in front of, he noted the name on her badge, Jennifer, it suited her.

"Well dear, visiting hours are now so if you want to go inside, go ahead."

Brooklyn realised she was waiting for him to move, so he smiled and stood up his heart pounding in his chest as if it was going to burst right out and make a mess of the immaculate white floor. He knocked twice on the door and closed his eyes when he heard a familiar voice telling him to enter, sharper and more pained that he'd ever heard it before.

And this was it, he now had to follow through with everything he had promised himself, the day he had found out he had made himself a promise, a promise that he would do whatever could be done no matter the personal cost.

He pushed open the door and what he saw knocked the breath out of him.

There she sat, in the flesh on a hospital bed.

Avery Harlow had always been beautiful, it was something that had never been argued, a fact of existence, Avery was beautiful and Brooklyn was the one who always chased after her, always.

Until one day around two years ago when he'd he'd woken up and decided that enough was enough, he was nearing twenty and pining over someone who would never be his, he'd gone to her house intent on telling her that he couldn't do it anymore, that he couldn't be her friend and nothing more. He knew it had been selfish, but it was the one selfish thing he'd ever done. And instead of listening and understanding, Avery had done something far worse that winter morning.

She'd kissed him.

Brooklyn was brought back to the present with the sound of Avery gasping, she was sitting up straight on her bed but the only thing that registered with him was her hair, or more importantly, the lack of hair.

She had always had long red hair that shone brightly like it was alight, a fire in the midst of ordinary colours but now all he could see was slight fuzz sitting atop her head where hair had once sat and due to its absence, he focused on her face, her face which was skinnier than ever with her cheekbones protruding out of her face. She didn't look like Avery anymore, it was like a puzzle, her features fit together and made up the girl he loved, had loved for what seemed like his entire life.

It all slotted into place every single difference in her face hit Brooklyn like he was being punched, again and again, he physically took a step back and then noticed that the expression she wore on her face had been the one thing he hadn't been focused on. Her eyes were narrowed, her forehead was lined and there were the unmistakable signs of hatred on her face.

"What are you doing here?" she spoke more hoarsely like it was an effort to pronounce each word, but she was still sitting up straight as if trying to prove that she was still as strong as she had ever been.

But there were tubes everywhere, so many tubes feeding in and out of her body and machines buzzing rhythmically and Brooklyn had to fight to stay focused, he looked at Avery directly wanting to say something poignant and poetic, something that would make it all okay, but he couldn't think of anything. This situation was anything but okay, scrolling through Facebook whilst in Orlando for business and then seeing on your feed someone wishing your best friend a speedy recovery with leukaemia would never be okay.

He didn't know if they were still even friends, if the word could ever be applied to them again, all he knew as he looked at his feed in horror was that he had to catch the nearest plane back to England, that he had to turn up to this hospital and see Avery, make sure that she still breathed. And that was how he knew he hadn't changed in the slightest, at that moment, he'd managed to harden his heart and block her number from his phone two years ago, he'd managed to secure a job in an entirely different continent but just the thought of her being in pain, the thought of her having a disease had made him forget the person he had become.

Which lead him to this point where the only thing he could think to say happened to be the completely wrong thing to say, Avery was never one for blunt truths she preferred a sugar-coated existence, had he wept and begged her for forgiveness she would have been cold at first but then eventually the coldness would melt away. Instead, he chose to tell the truth.

"I came here because I saw something on my phone two nights ago that made me realise I was needed here, that no matter what's happened between the two of us, we have history and you're currently lying in a hospital bed and the friend you once were somehow was enough for me to book a plane ticket and come here."

"Well I'm sorry to tell you Brooklyn, but it was a complete waste of a journey. If I'd wanted you here I would've told you, haven't you got that into that analytical mind of yours you and me, we are done, have been for a long time so don't just storm in here and act like you have to be my knight in shining armour. I have freaking leukaemia; big deal doesn't mean I need you."

Brooklyn had never been an expert at telling lies, but he knew how to distinguish between truth and fiction and what she was saying right now was most certainly not the truth, he knew that because her lip quivered as she said it and he could tell she wanted nothing more than to lie down.

He realised then that he had been gripping the roses so tight the thorns had dug into his thumb, a perfect drop of scarlet blood fell to the floor and the action seemed to reverberate around the room.

Avery began to cry.

C