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Andrés wasn't a man who cried often, Martín knew as much after a decade of friendship, after several years of living together, after months of romance now. No, Andrés rarely cried, and if he did, he always tried to hide it. But he was crying now, in Martín's arms, hiding still, with his face buried in Martín’s neck as sobs escaped him.
Martín had gone shopping for dinner, because Andrés had still been busy painting late into the afternoon, and there wasn't enough food in their cupboards to make something that would meet the criteria of an acceptable dinner. Having put down the groceries on the kitchen counter, he had looked to find Andrés, as he wasn't in their garden anymore, where he had been seated on the grass earlier, painting the most romantic view of the monastery, the imposing building restored to its old grandeur, just like how it would be in a few months’ time, when the renovations should be finished. However Martín couldn't find his beloved anywhere outside. Having checked some of the rooms, cursing how big the monastery was and how much effort he'd have to make before they could even start making dinner, he thought he heard some faint music coming from the chapel, the place where they first kissed, and now the place that was their shared bedroom too. As he got closer, he also heard something aside from the classical music that Andrés apparently had put on: the sound of sobs. Worried, he walked up to the chapel, dread settling deep into his stomach as he saw Andrés, mostly hidden underneath the covers, lying on Martín's side of the bed, crying into the pillow. Martín walked up to him and sat down on the bed, as Andrés looked up at him. "Martín..." he whispered, tears still streaking his face. "Shh, my love," Martín hushed him, pulling him against his chest. "Shh... You're okay, you're with me. You're safe, and I'll protect you, no matter what. I love you, so so much, you know that.." Andrés started sobbing against his chest, louder than before. Martín tried to calm him down by stroking his back, his hair, wondering what had caused the love of his life to be so sad, so worried. "What's going on, baby?" "I---" Andrés let out another loud sob, and buried his face in Martín's neck.
They must have sat there at least fifteen minutes. Maybe it was more, maybe it was an hour. Or maybe it was less than that, Martín didn't know, he had forgotten all sense of time, like he always did around his soulmate. But it didn't matter, for Andrés had finally calmed down somewhat more. His breathing was erratic, still, and his beautiful face was tear streaked, his characteristic crooked smile having disappeared. And he looked... apologetic. As if he was sorry for crying on Martín's shoulder, regarding the tear stains on Martín's white shirt. Martín knew Andrés felt guilty, felt weak, for crying, and he wasn't having any of it. "It's fine, love. Don't worry about that, it's no big deal." Andrés had looked away, not meeting Martín's eyes. "Hey, it's okay to cry. You know that I also do it from time to time, everyone does. You don't have to hide such things from me. You don't have to prove how strong you are, or whatever. I know you, Andrés. Can you tell me what is wrong? Can I help you with it?" Martín's soft tone of voice, the way Andrés knew that that was just reserved for him, Martín's hand on his chin, it all brought back the feelings that had been bundling up for weeks now, the feelings he had been crying out secretly, until Martín had found him. He let out a sob again as the tears started welling up once more, streaming over his face. He noticed Martín's anxious face, clearly wondering what was going on, and what he had said wrong, yet Martín's hands returned to his back, stroking softly, holding him tight until Andrés thought he could speak again. "I-- I don't want to lose you, Martín," he said shakily, a hand moving up to wipe the tears away, taking a deep breath, "you are my soulmate, I-- I don't want to be without you."
"Shh, I've got you," Martín whispered, suddenly realising what this was about, "And I'll always be there for you. And I'll stay with you, forever. Even if you turn out to have your mom's illness." "I don't -- I... I am afraid, Martín."
"I know, cariño, I know. I don't know what the doctor will tell you next week, but I'll always be by your side. As long as you want me." Andrés shook his head, violently trying to dry his eyes. "No," he said, and it sounded near hysterical, "no, you don't want me when I can't do anything but lie in the bed, when I--" he gasped, sucking in the air, "when my muscles stop working. You deserve better, you--" Martín shushed him, softly, as he stroked his cheeks. He had never quite seen Andrés like that, this scared, this frantic. "No. I love you, and you only. And you know it, Andrés. I waited ten years for you, and even if you can't give me ten years of romance, even if you can’t give me ten more months, I want you and no one else. You're the one for me. You said it yourself, that night in the chapel," Martín himself was now trying not to start crying at the memories of that night, of how he had thought Andrés would leave, of how Andrés had stayed in the end, "we're soulmates. I'll be yours until the end of time, even if we don't live for all eternity. If there is any world after this one, I will find you. I will always be there for you, and I will haunt down whatever and whomever brings you pain, mi amor. We'll be together, forever, no matter what that doctor will tell you, I promise that."