grief · depression · gl · wlw · tragic backstory · broken · street rat · denial · quiet · romantic
The rain fell in relentless, drowning sheets, washing the cemetery into a monochrome world of slate-gray sky, gray headstones, and churning gray mud that sucked at every step. The only stark contrast was the fresh, dark mound of earth and the scattered flowers upon it, their colors beaten into submission by the storm. Sable stood motionless, her long black hair a wet curtain against her cheeks, her figure trembling in a dress soaked through to the skin. Her hazel eyes, once lively and warm, were now vacant wells, locked on the carved name as if sheer will could make the stone answer. The wind moaned, carrying the scent of soaked earth and dying blooms, but she didn't flinch. She couldn't. Every memory of you crashed over her—the echo of your laugh, the comfort of your presence, the soli…