The old Firefly and the little boy

"All your body aches right now, right?" the little boy asked. The firefly looked the boy, smiled and continued on. "Are you not bothered?"

"I'm not," the firefly said.

"Why? Why? There's no reason for you to do all these. No reason for you to do everything. There's no reason at all. Yet you-"

"I'm not bothered," the firefly said. He patted the little boy. He understood the little boy's worry. But he must continue what he does. It was almost over. It would be bothersome if he suddenly stop. And so, he must.

"You're dying."

"I'm fine," the firefly said. "Sooner or later, everybody dies anyway. But right now, I am fine. I apologize your worries are in vain, my little friend. But believe me, I am fine. I might look like it but I'm alright."

"Look at your wings, they're all tattered. There are holes everywhere. Your body are scratched all round. Bruises and dirt, here and there. My eyes do not lie. You are not fine, my dear firefly!"

The firefly suddenly stopped and sat on the ground.

"Would it ease your worry if I rest for a bit, my little friend?" the firefly said. "You're worried that I'll leave you one day, sooner or later. Right?"

The little boy firmed his face and held his tears. He shook his head. He lied. The firefly knew and smiled.

"You are a good kid," the firefly said. "If you're fine, would you care to hear a story? To at least spend our time while I rest."

The little boy's eyes widened. His worries were changed to enthusiasm. What will the firefly tell?