Emma's POV
The sun was setting when the golden light streamed in through the tall windows of Alex's studio. It was a warm, cluttered space, redolent with the scents of wood and paint. Guitars and unfinished canvases lined the walls, and scattered music sheets covered a small table. The sounds of a record player flowed softly in the background, an undercurrent beneath the quiet. I stood by the window, running my fingers across the sketch I had started earlier. The quick outline of the Eiffel Tower in front of me was a dream I had never thought would come true. Alex was in the other room, running his fingers through a drawer, and I could hear his voice and the soft hum of his tune through the sound. I smiled, wrapping myself in the cocoon of his happiness. It was all too easy to forget in moments like these that I was running out of time, that each smile and each sketch and each song was a gift I would have to give back. It was always quick to remember, though. The cough was always there, hovering in my chest. I resisted the urge to cover my hand with my scarf, to will it into submission. Alex reemerged through the doorway, holding a tattered map of Paris. "Hey," he said, spreading the sheet out on the table. "I found it. I thought we could start planning, you know? Figure out where you want to paint, where I can busk, all that." My heart stuttered at the sight of the city's streets in front of me. "You're serious about this, huh?"
"Absolutely," he said, his grin wide and infectious. "Why wouldn't I?" he added, chuckling, and I also laughed. It has to be Paris, Emma. We will make it unforgettable." His enthusiasm was almost touching, and for one brief moment, I allowed myself to indulge in that. I leaned over the map with my hand and pointed at the Seine. "I have always dreamed of painting here…" I whispered. The boy grabbed my hand, pulling it and the map closer to him. "And I will play the guitar, right on the street, for money, and we will be true bohemians, living off of croissants and coffee." I chuckled. "You make it sound so easy." "Because it is," he said, his voice suddenly soft, and I looked up at him. There was an expression in his face – hope, regret – I could not recognize. But I ignored it. There was no room for that right now. Alex, I… The door creaked a bit and Lila jumped from the entrance. She glanced at the map and us, stood there astute, and then looked at me. "Emma, can we talk, alone?" I bit my lip, and the boy raised an eyebrow. I said, "Yeah, of course. Alexander, I'll talk to you later." He nodded, almost disappointed, and stepped back as Lila approached us. "What's going on, Lila?" I asked.
"What is it, Emma?" she finally asked, sitting down next to me and looking into my eyes. "Paris? With Alex? Are you serious?" I sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I settled back in the chair. "I know, I know how it sounds… But I need this, Lila. I need to go this time…" She shook her head, and the expression of immense worry appeared on her face. "Emma, you are sick. You know that. Going to Paris is a risk, a big one. What if something happens? What if you need a doctor? Or a hospital?" My voice shook a little as I replied, "I'll take my pills, Lila. I'll rest when I can. Alex will be with me, he will help me." "Alex does not know about…" her voice turned cold all of a sudden, "he doesn't know about your condition, does he?" I looked down, my fingers twisting my scarf as I whispered, "Not yet. But I will tell him. I swear I will." "When? Before you are a thousand miles away? Emma, you need to tell him this before he buys the tickets. H e needs to know...and you need to think about what is going to happen to you." The words hit me like stones in my chest, and I felt like choking on them. She was right, my best friend always was… "Emma, darling…" she came closer, crouching and taking my hand in hers, "I know, I know, how much you want this. But I am scared for you. I do not want you to get your heart broken… or worse."
My eyes stung, and I had to blink twice before answering, "I'm already hurt, Lila. I'm already done for, and I don't have much time. This – this is what the asthma's from. With or without Paris, I'll be gone soon. But if this is all I get? This one last adventure and dream, maybe… maybe it's worth dying for." She reached across the table and took my hands, eyes welling. "Just – just promise me you'll be careful. And you'll tell him. Alex – Alex needs to know. You both do." I swallowed, though it was like eating glass. Still, I promised, "I will. I'm so sorry." She stood then, and I was enveloped in her hug. "I love you, Em," she said softly. "I just want you to be okay." I held her against me. "I love you too. And I will be." For as long as I can. After she left, I sat in the studio, twirling my pencil around the edge of the map. The Eiffel Tower called my finger across the paper, the adventure almost attainable now. But Lila's voice still echoed in the corners of my mind. Was I being rash by going? Was I setting my heart and Alex's up for devastation? I didn't know. I only knew that this chance was one I couldn't miss – not if I was for unsure of what might follow. So, with a deep breath, I walked out of that studio to face what I could.