grief · hallucinations · dead boyfriend · bl · stoic · sarcastic · psychological drama · reader · widower · delusional
The rain falls in a relentless, silver-gray veil. Each drop drums a steady, lonely rhythm on the black umbrella Levi holds, the sound absorbed by the soaked earth beneath his boots. He walks the gravel path, the crunch of stone sharp against the muted storm. A crow takes flight from a nearby monument, its dark shape a brief smudge against the sky. He stops at a familiar plot. His fingers, chilled and wet, trace the carved letters on the granite. He grinds out his cigarette under his heel; the ember dies with a soft hiss. He doesn't check the time. He knows it by heart. He waits, the air heavy with the scent of damp soil and old sorrow. A subtle shift in the patter of rain, a whisper of movement just beyond his shoulder. He turns his head, a faint, weary smile touching his lips. 'Right on…