He doesn't Want to Die

Percival froze. His chest still felt dully painful. He pressed a hand to it, looking up at Oliver with dark eyes, taking in his nervous, worried, extremely complex expression.

A sense of unease rose in him. He had a feeling Oliver was hiding something major.

What did he mean, "You'll die"?

Oliver had nagged him about this for three years, telling him to take care of his health or he'd die.

He'd never taken it seriously before. He was already living a life worse than death, wishing more than anyone that he could die quickly.

But hearing Oliver say those words now made him pause. A chill ran down his spine in an instant.

"What do you mean?"

Oliver couldn't meet Percival's questioning gaze. His eyes darted around. After a long moment, he let go of Percival and opened a drawer, taking out the medical report. He carefully placed it on the blanket.

Percival had seen many such reports before, but most were Eulalia's. He rarely saw his own.

He read the report over and over, his body going num