Work Text:
“July 14, 2068. Day 1,997.” The robotic voice of Oliver’s delivery system announced the day, same as it always did. “You have one delivery.”
His Jazz Monthly magazine fell from the mail chute, hitting the floor with a soft thud, one more in an ever growing pile. Oliver opened his eyes slowly, carefully, almost reluctantly. He looked down at his sorry, broken body. He was now wired to the wall. He was falling apart.
With a sigh, Oliver started playing Gil Brentley through his speakers. Why Love. It felt more like a reflection of his life everyday.
“Even stars up above… ask where their glow went…”
Oliver wondered where his glow went everyday. It had been three years since Claire “died,” if he could even call it that. More accurately, she broke down and malfunctioned. Now the same thing was happening to him.
“Love lasts one moment…”
As his chime sounded, despite being plugged in, Oliver thought back to those happy times with Claire. And how it all ended. How he spent the last few years pining for her, having to watch her whither away and being unable to tell her how he felt, what he knew. But he knew they had been in love, and Hwaboon knew too, and maybe that was all that mattered. Hwaboon, the keeper of all those moments shared between him and Claire, the holder of all their secrets. He had been here before Oliver had even been created, and would still be here after. A testament to Oliver’s life and love. He smiled a little at the thought.
And James. Oliver’s heart broke a little more as he thought about him. It had almost nine years since he died, but Oliver still thought about him occasionally. It was like Junseo had said the last time Oliver had seen him: Oliver still resented James for all the lies, but he also missed him so much. Oliver had experienced so much loss in his life, between James and Claire, but he still had hope. He hoped that he would see Claire and James again if there was something beyond this life.
Oliver’s chime sounded again. If he had been human, he might have described what he was feeling as fear.
He turned his wrist towards Hwaboon, who sat on the side table next him. “Don’t tell me Hwaboon, okay.”
He glanced over at the picture of himself and Claire on his wall, and grabbed little plastic flower Claire had given him all those years ago. He turned it slowly in his fingers as best he could with his broken-down joints, giving a sad chuckle as he stared at it.
“Goodbye, Hwaboon.” He gave a small pat to his favorite plant, started playing his memories of Claire, and shut his eyes.
“And then that final task, to sigh and ask…”