I’m pulled from my thoughts as Caz dissolves into a loud coughing fit. And the melodramatic part of my brain programmed to assume the worst of everything instantly thinks: Oh god. This is it. He’s going to tell me he’s suffering from some kind of chronic condition and he’s been keeping it a secret this whole time because he doesn’t want anyone to worry but he only has two months left to live. We’re going to end up in a depressing movie montage of his last days with me and there’s going to be a bunch of blood-colored sunsets and slow walks by the beach and one day he’ll just collapse before my
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LOL so relatable
