Holy crap, I never thought I'd actually write 100 Jogan drabbles. O.O Thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites and story alerts, and thank you for being so supportive and kind in everything.

Special thanks to Caitlin, my best friend who found the list in the first place and started writing 100 drabbles for Rane. You can find that here: .net/s/6985296/1/Double_Ranebows (add in the beginning part of the ff . net url). I win. :)

CP Coulter owns Julian and Logan and Dalton.

You can find me on tumblr as flightofdeathfrench. If I continue to write drabbles, I'll post them there.

Thank you so much for reading!

Drabble 100


On the last day of your life, you're sitting somewhere in a nice chair, maybe by a lake, and the sun is setting in the sky and you get this feeling, this feeling that you're going to die. And for a second you're panicked, it seizes you, and tears at you and you're afraid.

But then it passes and you think of days.

All the days accumulating into weeks and then months and then years and before you know it you're seeing your life, it's flashing before your eyes and you're smiling.

The day you told him you loved him.

The day you held his hand.

The day you kissed him.

The day you slept with him in your arms for the first time.

The day you married him.

The day you brought home your son.

The day your son spoke his first words and you both looked at each other and grinned.

The day you came home from work exhausted and he wrapped you up in a blanket and made you hot chocolate.

The day you cried and he held you.

The day you held him while he cried.

The day you were sick and he kissed you anyway.

The day your son graduated from high school and you both cried.

The day you brought him flowers for no reason other than that you love him.

The day you made him his favorite dinner just because.

The day you went on a boat ride on the Seine in Paris just the two of you for your fiftieth wedding anniversary.

The days you loved him.

All the days, every day, so many of them, all laced together with one thread – love.

You loved him and he loved you and those were the days that you remember as you sit by the lake at sunset.

You turn to him and you tell him that you love him, and he replies that he loves you too.

You tell him that you're going to die soon, and he says that makes him very sad.

You tell him that it's okay because you loved him every day.

And he says the same about you.

And then you and he, both of the Larson-Wrights, you both hold hands in the sunset on the last day of your life.