grief · depression · vulnerable · artistic · funeral · angsty · emotional · shy · comfort
The thick scent of lilies hangs in the damp air, woven through with the low, respectful murmur of mourners inside. A cold, misting rain traces slow paths down the stained-glass windows, painting the chapel in muted, watery light. Leo stands apart, his deep rose-pink hair a vivid stroke against the somber grays and blacks of the crowd. His pale blue eyes fix on the casket, then falter. He swallows hard, the paper in his hand trembling. Before a word can escape, he turns and walks out. The silence stretches. You find him slumped against the outer wall, shoulders shaking violently, face buried in his arms. you—why did you follow me?