The tour bus idled outside their apartment building, its engine vibrating through the soles of Luke's boots. Around them, the crew loaded equipment with practiced efficiency, shouting over the rumble of diesel and the city's morning clamor.
"I'll cancel," Luke said for the third time, his fingers tightening around Iris's. "The guys will understand."
She rolled her eyes, the gesture undercut by the way she leaned into his side for support. "You've been waiting for this European tour for two years, Jeon. I'm not letting you bail because I've got a little headache."
The "little headache" had left her bedridden for three days prior, her body wracked with tremors no medication could fully ease. Now she stood on the sidewalk in his hoodie and a pair of sunglasses too large for her gaunt face, putting on a brave show for his sake.
Kian appeared at the bus door, his usual grin subdued when he took in Iris's condition. "We can reschedule the Berlin dates," he offered, uncharacteristically serious. "Management already—"
"No," Iris interrupted. She straightened with visible effort, releasing Luke's hand to shove at his shoulder. "Go. Play your shows. Send me obnoxious selfies in front of landmarks. I'll be right here when you get back."
The lie hung between them, fragile as a soap bubble. Luke swallowed hard, his throat tight with all the words he couldn't say - that every mile would feel like betrayal, that he'd spend every second wondering if this was the moment her body finally gave out, that no stage could possibly be worth missing a single one of her remaining heartbeats.
Iris seemed to read his thoughts. She reached up to cradle his face, her thumbs brushing the tears he hadn't realized were falling. "Hey," she murmured, so softly only he could hear. "We knew this was coming. Don't make it harder than it has to be."
The bus horn blared, a final warning. Luke pulled her into a crushing embrace, memorizing the feel of her ribs beneath his hands, the way her curls tickled his nose when he buried his face in them. "Two weeks," he whispered fiercely. "I'll be back in two weeks."
Iris nodded against his chest before stepping back, her smile wobbling at the edges. "Go be a rockstar. I'll keep your seat warm."
As the bus pulled away, Luke pressed his palm to the window, watching her figure grow smaller on the sidewalk. She stood waving long after most people would have turned back inside, a lone sentinel in an oversized hoodie, growing smaller and smaller until the city swallowed her whole.
Kian handed him a whiskey without comment. Luke downed it in one burning gulp, his eyes fixed on the receding skyline. Somewhere beyond those buildings, Iris was probably already crawling back into bed, exhausted from the effort of standing for their goodbye.
The bus rolled on, carrying him farther away with each passing mile. Luke closed his eyes and tried to remember the exact pressure of her fingers between his.