The Anne Frank House

My god, she was so beautiful.

Even as tears were pouring down her face, sobs hitching her shoulders roughly, gasping for air that she couldn't get, she was gorgeous. An angel sent down from heaven to live a cruel, cancerous life. Of course, she would deny it if I even mentioned that to her, but I have learned the hard way not to deny myself the privilege of enjoying beautiful things.

"Hey," I murmured to her, gently placing my hand on her waist as we walked down the uneven brick sidewalk. "Hey, it's okay." Of course it wasn't really okay, but the sight of her tears made my heart want to shrivel up and die. Ironically, it was the only part of me that wasn't slowly dying. Yet. I barely held in a shiver of thinly veiled fear back, just for Hazel's sake. She didn't know that I was dying. Her mother did.

Hazel Grace nodded absently, gingerly brushing the tears that poured down her face with the back of her hand, looking up at me with a broken look in her eyes. In that moment, all I wanted was to make her pain go away, to see her smile again. "He sucks." She nodded again in response, knowing I was referring to that ass-hat Houten. What a bastard. Unworthy of her respect. "I'll write you an epilogue," I promised her, squeezing her waist slightly as her eyes widened. To my dismay, she began crying even harder. You idiot, you just made it worse!

"I will. Better than any shit that drunk could write. His brain is Swiss cheese. He doesn't even remember writing the book. I can write ten times the story that guy can. There will be blood and guts and sacrifice. An Imperial affliction meets The Price of Dawn. You'll love it." I vowed, promising myself that before I would die, as I would die at one point in our lives as is the nature of death, I would write Hazel Grace the epilogue that she always wanted.

It was obvious that she was faking the smile that she threw at me, nodding her head viciously to my words. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her, abandoning the oxygen cart I held in one hand on the ground next to us, my muscles still strong and steady against the war inside of me, pulling her safely to my chest as we halted on the sidewalk. My heart raced, skipping a beat as she burrowed her face into my torso. It continued to pound, so loudly I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Hazel Grace herself heard it. I could feel her tears staining my shirt, but I couldn't care less as I held the girl I loved with all of my heart to my body.

It was a long while before she had regained control of herself enough to speak to me, and all the while, my heart thudded wildly. If that wasn't a giveaway to her about how I felt about her, I didn't know what would be. "I spent your Wish on that ducheface," she sobbed brokenly into my soaked polo shirt, her words coming out muffled and anguished. All I wanted was for her to be happy again.

"Hazel Grace. No. I will grant you that you did spend my one and only Wish, but you did not spend it on him. You spent it on us." My heart did a little flip at the word us. How much I wished that was a real thing, you wouldn't believe it. Every day, this girl I held in my arms found a new way to make me fall for her, flying high above the clouds with no sign of the Earth rushing toward me from below. I could live forever, as long as I had her.

The sound of high heels pounding on the sidewalk made her raise her head from my chest, and I felt a brief stab of resentment to our interrupter for breaking the moment. It cooled, however, when Lidewij's mortified, mascara lined face came into view, flushing with anger and embarrassment. I almost shouted at her to go away, but she panted out, "Perhaps we should go to the Anne Frank Huis." before I could get a word in otherwise.

I hissed back, "I'm not going anywhere with that monster."

"He is not invited," she replied, acid creeping into her tone at the mention of her, now, former boss. I refused to let go of Hazel Grace, my hand protectively cupping her cheek, my other arm wrapped securely around her body.

"I don't think-" I started to say, but Hazel Grace cut me off, surprising me.

"We should go," she said, clearing her throat when her voice came out croaky, probably from all of the crying that she had just done. I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it when she turned to look at me, giving in to the sight of her now-hopeful expression.

I would do anything she asked. As long as it made her happy.

---

The entire ride to the Anne Frank House, Lidewij apologized, very profusely. "I am very sorry. There is no excuse. He is very sick," she scoffed, and I rolled my eyes from my spot in the backseat of her gray Fiat. I clenched the side of the door as we zoomed at breakneck speed through the streets. The engine squealed like a little girl as she weaved in and out of traffic. "I thought meeting you would help him, if he would see that his work has shaped real lives, but… I'm very sorry. It is very, very embarrassing." As she made a quick turn, our bodies slammed into the left side of the car. I just barely covered up a gasp, clenching my teeth as my hip, the one that was missing a real leg, flared with agonizing pain, making my vision go black for a second before everything came back into focus. The pain was gone as soon as it had appeared, a cruel reminder that I was still, indeed dying.

I almost missed what Lidewij had said next. "I have continued this work because I believe he is a genius and because the pay is very good, but he has become a monster."

"I guess he got pretty rich on that book," Hazel Grace declared, folding her hands in her lap after a brief moment of awkward silence. I turned my head towards the back of her head as she spoke, staring at her for a moment as Lidewij replied.

"Oh, no no, he is of the Van Houtens," she stated. "In the seventeenth century, his ancestor discovered how to mix cocoa into water. Some Van Houtens moved to the United States long ago, and Peter is of those, but he moved to Holland after his novel. He is an embarrassment to a great family."

I braced myself as the engine squealed again, managing to hold myself still as Lidewij made a violent turn onto a bridge that overlooked a canal. "It is circumstance," she continued. "Circumstance has made him so cruel. He is not an evil man. But this day, I did not think-when he said these terrible things, I could not believe it. I am very sorry. Very very sorry."

Me too, I thought, glancing at the back of Hazel Grace's hair as we continued to race down the streets of Amsterdam. Hazel Grace might act tough, but I knew that she genuinely was devastated about how her meeting with Van Houten had gone today, and that meant that I was as well.

---

When we got to the Anne Frank House, the nearest parking spot was nearly a block away, and I felt outraged that my Hazel Grace had to walk that far. Wait…my Hazel Grace? Bit possessive, hmm? Down boy.

Obviously a bit worn out already, and we hadn't even hit the house yet, Hazel Grace sat down under this adorable little tree, kind of just standing there pathetically beside a bunch of those little houseboats in the canal while Lidewij went to buy us tickets to get inside. I wondered how that pathetic tree got there, or who put it there. I guess I'll never know.

Deciding against the trouble of sitting down and getting back up again, I stood next to her, entertaining myself by spinning her oxygen cart in my hand. Absently, I used my free hand to rub the still there pain on my hip, turning my head away from Hazel so she wouldn't see me wince. I knew that I couldn't hide my pain from her for much longer, but I desperately wanted to try to hide it from her, to stop her pain.

I looked down at her after a minute or two of comfortable silence. "Okay?" She gave me kind of a half shrug, half smile as she laid her hand on my prosthetic calf. I kept my eyes on her as she seemed to struggle with the right words to say/

"I wanted…" she started, and I understood immediately.

"I know," I responded. "I know. Apparently the world is not a wish granting factory." I was rewarded with a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

How was it possible for this girl to make me so happy?

We turned our heads toward Lidewij as she approached, and I instantly knew that she had bad news for us from the look on her face. "There is no elevator. I am very very sorry." I swear that was all she had said all day. She must really like apologizing.

I braced myself for Hazel Grace to admit defeat and decide to go home, but once again, she surprised me. "It's okay." I turned to look at her, oxygen nubs tucked snugly in her nostrils, struggling to get up. With some effort she used my legs to brace herself, and managed to stand up with us.

"No," Lidewij protested, looking half scandalized and half incredulous as she shifted her gaze from the two of us. "There are many stairs. Steep stairs." I, myself, winced, thinking about the both of us climbing these gigantic stairs. Me, with my body exploding in pain and Hazel Grace gasping for air that just wouldn't come. But, I should have known that Hazel wouldn't give up that easy.

"It's okay," she insisted, turning her head to look up at me. I opened my mouth again to protest, but she silenced me with a look. "It's okay. I can do it." Pursing my lips, I gave up and offered my Hazel Grace my hand, which she took. As long as she is happy. I repeated to myself.

Together, we followed Lidewij into the Anne Frank House.

---

The first room that we set foot in wasn't spectacular in an abundance of ways. There was a featured video on the wall about the Frank family, the Jews in Holland, and the Nazi invasion, but that was about it. To get to the next room, we had to go upstairs. To my relief, both Hazel Grace and I were able to get to the top without injury, although she was breathing a bit deeper than she was before. In front of us was an even steeper set of stairs, very narrow and tall. Hazel let out a soft groan from next to me as Lidewij politely asked our fellow visitors, "If everyone could be patient, please."

Hazel Grace slowly began the tedious walk up the stairs, with Lidewij carrying her oxygen tank for me, allowing me to use my full strength to get up myself. As I climbed the stairs, I felt the pain in my hip sharpen, and I bit my lip to hold back my moan of agony. I counted the stairs as we went, knowing that there were only fourteen, but to us, it felt like it could easily have been over a thousand.

Gripping the wall tightly, Hazel managed to stagger to the top, falling back against the wall in front of her as Lidewij followed her. Gritting my teeth, I took the last step, and sighed in relief when the pain inside of me flared back down to a dull roar. I walked over to where Hazel Grace was slumped against the wall anxiously looking her over to see how she was doing. She finally noticed me standing with her when I wiped the sweat off of my brow, exhaling softly.

"You're a champion." I told her, grinning at her when she beamed at me.

We let Hazel rest a bit and catch her breath before we continued into the next room. I was sort of surprised to find it completely empty, the only things showing life were the pictures that somebody had posted all over the walls. I assumed it was Anne's handiwork, but I bet Hazel knew for sure. Making a mental note to ask her later, I followed Hazel Grace to the last staircase.

I grimaced as it came into sight. You call that a staircase? Try ladder. As I mused darkly, Hazel Grace looked up into the next room, anguish prominent all over her face. "Let's go back," I whispered to the back of her head, hoping she would listen to me and avoid hurting herself, but who was I kidding? This is Hazel Grace Lancaster, and she didn't give up for anything.

"I'm okay," She shot back stubbornly, and I rolled my eyes at her as she lowered herself to her knees, crawling up them instead of walking. I watched anxiously as she swayed violently, gasping and choking while she picked up speed. This time, I went after her first, taking her oxygen cart from Lidewij and taking the stairs at a brisk walk. It was easier to ignore the pain, knowing that I had to get to her.

I rushed over to her as she collapsed on the ground next to the stairs, heaving out gasping breaths while she stared blankly ahead. It was easy to tell when she took notice of her surroundings, because she blinked and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. I stroked the top of her head gently, my head pounding in response to my pain and her body's distress. Lidewij crouched next to us, promising that there would be no more stairs, and that she was okay now.

There were nosy adults all around us, and they all looked worriedly at us, but Lidewij calmly told all of them something in many different languages that seemed to satisfy their curiosity. It was a long while before Hazel reached her arms out to us, and we carefully pulled her to her feet. I gently kept a hold of her with my hand on her waist as she swayed slightly, and kept it there even as we left the living area of the Frank's. I felt heart skip a beat as I stared down at her lit up face, fascination prevalent as she took in the pictures of the eight residents donning the walls of a long hallway. If I could, I would stay like this forever, as long as she was happy.

"The only member of his whole family who survived the war," Lidewij broke the silence with her whisper, talking about Anne's dad, Otto Frank.

"But he didn't survive a war, not really," I protested. "He survived a genocide."

She seemed to agree with me. "True. I do not know how you go on without your family. I do not know." As we were talking, Hazel Grace had moved forward to read about the deaths of the seven fallen. We slowly moved forward as she took her time analyzing the different exhibits laid out for visitors. At the end of the hallway, there was this huge book, and I mean bigger than the largest dictionary ever, and it had all the names of the over 100,000 people who had died from the Holocaust in the Netherlands. I ran my eyes over Anne Frank's name, thinking about the girl who Hazel seemed to admire so much.

When we left the room, I noticed that Hazel Grace seemed slightly crestfallen, and I briefly wondered what had happened. "You okay?" She nodded in response. "The worst part is that she almost lived, you know? She died weeks away from the liberation." I mused, turning my head to look at Anne's picture.

Lidewij wandered away from us to watch a video, and Hazel Grace reached out to take my hand, leading me into the next room. There were letters plastered all over the walls that Anne's dad had written to people while searching for his daughters. I looked up to see a video rolling of Otto speaking English.

"Are there any Nazis left that I could hunt down and bring to justice?" I murmured to Hazel Grace as we continued to read the letters Otto had written, and even worse, the replies that his daughters were not to be found.

"I think they're all dead. But it's not like the Nazis had a monopoly on evil." She replied.

"True," I said. "That's what we should do, Hazel Grace: We should team up and be this disabled vigilante duo roaring through the world, righting wrongs, defending the weak, protecting the endangered." I was only half joking at the end.

She laughed quietly to not disturb the people watching the video. "Our fearlessness shall be our secret weapon."

"The tales of our exploits will survive as long as the human voice itself," I laughed, trying not to think about the fact that the chances of my survival were sinking lower and lower each day that passed after I had stopped my treatments.

"And even after that, when the robots recall the human absurdities of sacrifice and compassion, they will remember us."

"They will robot-laugh at our courageous folly," I responded. "But something in their iron robot hearts will yearn to have lived and died as we did: on the hero's errand." That is exactly what I wished to do. I wanted to leave my mark on the world, to be remembered for something good. Not just Poor Augustus Waters. He died of cancer.

"Augustus Waters," Hazel Grace whispered, turning her head to look at me, something flashing in her eyes that made my heart start to pound again. As she gazed at me with a blazing expression, I fell even more in love with her in that moment. She was so beautiful. She took my breath away. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her and make her mine.

"I must say," Otto Frank's voice echoed in the room around us, but I only knew Hazel Grace was looking at me, her mouth half open like she was going to say something but couldn't find the words. "I was very much surprised by the deep thoughts Anne had."

I don't know who made the first move, but suddenly we were kissing, our lips crushing together as Hazel Grace laced her arms up and around my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as my heart soared, picking her up onto her tiptoes from her waist as our parted lips moved together. A slow, passionate burning fire ran through my veins, leaving me breathless and desperate for more. This was more than I had even expected. And I never wanted this moment to end.

"It was quite a different Anne I had known as my daughter. She never really showed this kind of inner feeling."

We did not stop as Otto Frank's words came from the video screen in front of me, lost in each other. "And my conclusion is, since I had been in very good terms with Anne, that most parents don't know really their children."

I opened my eyes as our lips broke apart, feeling the loss of her soft caress deep inside of my soul. Her eyes fluttered open, and my heart continued to flutter as hazel eyes met my blue. Suddenly, she pulled away, staring down at her sneakers as she blushed, and I looked around to see a group of people surrounding us, with smiles on their faces. I kissed her forehead tenderly as she fidgeted. And, suddenly, the crowd around us burst into applause, shouting "Bravo!" and "Cheers!" and I just couldn't help but doing an exaggerated bow. Hazel laughed with me, curtsying slightly as the applause grew louder and louder. I didn't even think about my cancer.

And I had never been happier than I had in this moment.

---

Lidewij dropped us off at our hotel, and for a little while, we kind of just stood there outside, getting wet and staring at each other. "You should probably get some rest." I told her, gently tucking a loose strand of her flyaway hair behind her ear.

"I'm okay."

"Okay." I hesitated. "What are you thinking about?" I wondered if she regretted what had happened at all, in any way.

"You." She replied, smiling up at me in the rain, making my heart jump again.

"What about me?" I grinned back crookedly, memorizing her beautiful face to keep it forever.

She responded, "I do not know which to prefer, / The beauty of inflections / Or the beauty of innuendos, / The blackbird whistling / Or just after."

I could not think of anything to say but, "God, you are sexy."

"We could go to your room." God, was I glad that she was looking at my face, instead of my body when she said that. Self-consciously, I adjusted my jeans.

"I've heard worse ideas."

---

We caught the tiny elevator, which basically was one gigantic mirror. Every surface, including the door and the floor was covered. When I yanked the door shut, the ancient thing slowly chugged its way up to the next floor, and Hazel Grace used that to her advantage as she pinned me to the back wall, kissing me. I kissed her back, reveling in the things I felt, before pulling away to point at the many little Hazel's in the mirror. "Look, infinite Hazels."

"Some infinities are larger than other infinities," she drawled back, doing a very good impression of the ducheface himself. I reached down and squeezed her hand tightly.

"What an assclown," I scoffed, and suddenly we were at our floor. I reached out and pushed it open, but suddenly a new pain burst into existence inside of my arm. Flinching, I lost my grip on the door, hoping that Hazel didn't see my pain. Of course, she did.

"You okay?"

I couldn't speak for a second; the pain was excruciating. "Yeah, yeah, door's just heavy, I guess." I cringed internally at the obvious lie in my voice, but if she noticed, she didn't comment on it. Wildly, I gestured for her to get out first, and I followed her, my face still contorted in a grimace of agony.

"Okay?"

"Just out of shape, Hazel Grace. All is well." Oh, I hated lying to her with every atom in my body, but I tried to convince her that it was for her own good.

We didn't move. As we stood there staring at each other in the dimly lit hallway, I thought wildly about what her reaction would be to seeing my hideously scarred leg. Or me without a leg. Yeah, probably both. Or what if she didn't think I was good enough?

God, I was such a virgin.

She fidgeted slightly until I finally spoke, "It's above my knee and it just tapers a little and then it's just skin. There's a nasty scar but it just looks like-"

She cut me off. "What?"

"My leg," I answered, briefly wondering what she had been expecting me to say. "Just so you're prepared in case, I mean, in case you see it or what-"

"Oh get over yourself," she smirked, and flung herself at me, crushing her mouth to me roughly, and I closed my eyes as I fumbled for my room key. I shakily turned the key in the lock, and we fell into the room, stumbling over each other and I kicked the door shut. We did not remove our mouths, tenderly but passionately embracing the other. She moaned into my mouth, her jaw falling open to grant me access, and our tongues twirled together gently as we kissed.

We finally broke apart to crawl into my bed, Hazel Grace staggering a bit from her oxygen tank, but eventually she managed to pull herself on top of me, my body reacting to her beautiful self. I let her pull my shirt off and over my head, and then she pressed her face to my neck as she whispered the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

"I love you, Augustus Waters." I felt my tense body relax immediately as her words made my heart swell up. I carefully, slowly so she could stop me if she wanted, pulled her shirt over her head. When she didn't stop me, I tried to toss it away from her, but it got tangled in her tubes while she giggled at me.

"How do you do this every day?" I wondered as she carefully disentangled her shirt from her tubes. My eyes slowly ate in every inch of her beautiful body, storing it away for memory. The way her chest heaved with her heavy breaths as her eyes met mine. The burning look in her eyes when she kissed me. Even her shyness, crawling underneath the covers before removing her pants and socks. All of it was so damn endearing to me as I dove underneath with her.

Fuck.

Slowly, I reached down under the covers, sliding my jeans off of me before carefully removing my leg, setting it down on the floor beside the bed. For a while we didn't move, just lay there on our backs in comfortable silence. Eventually, Hazel Grace reached down, trailing her fingers over the stump of my leg. I flinched at her cold touch and she asked, "It hurts?"

"No," I answered truthfully. The last thing I felt right now was hurt.

I carefully fipped myself onto my side so I could kiss her, our mouths falling open as we kissed each other lovingly.

"You're so hot," she whispered against my lips, not removing her hand from my leg.

"I'm starting to think you have an amputee fetish," I snorted, continuing to kiss her in between my words. She giggled softly in response and it sent shivers up and down my body.

"I have an Augustus Waters fetish," she said, and it came out as a sort of moan as we fell together, me pulling her on top of my body so I could easily reach her. Slowly, carefully, I reached behind her without breaking our kiss, unclasping her bra. She fell free as I tossed it unceremoniously on the floor next to my leg.

She moaned softly into my hair as I kissed down to her chest, taking her into my mouth and kissing her. As I did this, she trailed her hands down to touch me, and my hips jerked a bit in response. I gasped, and reluctantly broke the kiss to reach down to where my pants were. I fumbled inside of the pockets for a second before finding the little tin foil packet that contained a condom.

She looked mystified until, blushing, I held them out to her, "Just in case." In response, she turned tomato red, and turned her face back to kiss me while she pulled my boxers off. As she unwrapped the package, I did the same to her underwear, drinking in the sight of her while she covered me up with the condom.

Slowly, she climbed back on top of me, and gently enveloped me inside of her before leaning down and pressing her body flush against my chest. I gave a soft moan at the exact same time she did, moving my hips ever so slightly back and forth while her heart pounded against mine. Hazel Grace pressed her hands to my cheeks, pulling my mouth to hers while I pumped in and out of her slowly, sensually.

After what felt like a hundred years of ecstasy, I felt her groan against my mouth, shuddering against me while I reached my peak. I stilled inside of her as we both collapsed in a limp heap on top of each other, weakly reaching for a wad of tissues from the box on the dresser before wrapping up the mess inside of it. Taking aim, I tossed it into the rubbish bin next to the bed, and wrapped my arms around Hazel Grace's limp body. She moaned, turning her head to rest against my chest, and I felt her heart pound somewhere on my stomach.

We just lay there for a long time, coming down from our peaks, our hearts slowly but steadily slowly back down. Eventually, I found my voice, rough and croaky with misuse.

"Hazel Grace," I said. "I literally cannot keep my eyes open."

I could feel her smile against my chest. "Misuse of literality."

"No," I moaned, feeling sleep creeping in on the edges of my vision, inviting me to go under with them. "So. Tired." I turned my face from hers and let my eyes flutter shut, falling asleep with the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms. And I swore, I had never been happier than when I was with my Hazel Grace Lancaster, cancer and all.