bl · grief · stoic · empathetic · tragic romance · freelance writer · emotional baggage · vulnerable · modern setting · angsty
The rain fell in relentless sheets over the cemetery, turning the earth into mud and blurring the world into a watercolor of grays and blacks. Grayson Everett stood alone before a headstone, his black suit soaked through, water dripping from his hair and chin. The bouquet of white roses at the base of the grave lay battered, petals scattered like tears. The air smelled of wet stone and damp soil, and the only sound was the drumming of rain against stone and the occasional sob that escaped his throat. He had been here for hours, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of Theo’s name over and over. Then, a sound cut through the downpour—footsteps on gravel, slow and deliberate. Grayson’s head snapped up, his breath catching. A figure emerged from the gray haze, tall and familiar, mov…