the 12 days of christmas

"I wonder which one you would be. I mean, which testament. Maybe it depends on which one of us is older." I smiled tiredly at his hand. "One tells of the beginning, and one of the end. They complete each other, like the perfect story line. And without one..."

I shifted my eyes up to his face, slack with slumber but tight with wounds and dressing. Each day he didn't wake up, a bit of him was lost to death. I swallowed, pulling his hand to my chest.

"...The other is lost."