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It was raining. Of course it was. It always seemed to rain when he was visiting her grave. Lauren, his sweet Lauren. Taken far too early from his grasp.
He once stared at her like she made the moon, he once held her so tight like he was keeping her from breaking. But now all he could stare at was her picture on her stone, all he could hold were the flowers that lay on her resting place.
He remembered the day. Having to hear her screams and having to watch Destorm walk back inside, gloating, like Lauren deserved to die. Alex wished it was Destorm. Alex wished it was himself.
Now all he could do was kneel in the wet grass, mud getting on his pants and sob. Sob because this was the girl he was supposed to marry. Sob because he would've experienced her death himself a thousand times rather than have her die again.
He took out the old flowers, the withered ones that dried out weeks ago, and replaced them with the new ones. Daffodils. Her favorite. The same colour her dress was that day. He remembered seeing her in it that day and just thinking how gorgeous she would be in a white dress just like that one.
He dusted off dried leaves and scraped some of the moss off with his finger.
His chest ached with a heavy emptiness, which was ironic, because how could shattered pieces of a heart feel as heavy as iron? His very being hurt, down to his soul, scratching at it and piercing it with absolute despair. Because how could he go on without Lauren? How could he even wake up and look at himself in the mirror, knowing he had failed at protecting his girl? The person who was supposed to be the love of his life?
Technically, she was. Because his life basically ended when hers did.
After switching the flowers, he just.. stared at the grave. Glared at it, like he could scare it into giving his girlfriend back. But Alex was never the scary guy.
".. I'm back," he started, doing good with the "not crying" thing, except for his trembling lip. "Again. You know, like everyday.." His voice cracked. Lauren always used to laugh at voice cracks, asking him if "he's going through puberty again".
He would do anything to hear her laugh just one more time.
"I know you probably think I'm hung up on you.. you would probably tell me to move on," His eyes watered. Yeah, he couldn't not cry. "But I can't. You can't expect me to move on." He said through a sob that was ripped from his chest.
"No, that's just.. disgusting.." He continued, sobbing freely now, probably earning glances from the graveyard keeper. "Of course I'm hung up on you.. I loved-- no, no, nope.. I love you so much. I still do. If you magically rose from the dead, I would propose to you right here and now." He couldn't stop himself from talking.
"Because I was supposed to.. I was supposed to, dammit!" He sobbed, his body losing strength, making his forehead touch the stone. As if he was pressing their foreheads together one last time.
"I just wanna hug you." He whispered, so painfully quiet. "One more time. Please. You can't do this to me.. I can't do this without you, Lauren. Please." Tears were falling down his cheeks so fast, he was unsure if it was still raining or if it was just his crying.
"You were.. we were.. we.." He was completely incoherent and inconsolable. "We were supposed to.. do everything together. We were something to do this, *die*, together.. not you sixty years before me.."
It took him fifteen minutes of complete wailing to even catch his breath, not that he wanted to breathe even more, not without her.
".. what am I supposed to do now, sweetheart? Tell me. Just tell me, somehow, how am I supposed to get up and leave, knowing you're here..?" His voice wasn't even teary anymore, it was just so absolute helpless and despaired.
A gentle breeze ran through the air, like she was answering.
"Because I can't-- I can't stand up and leave you underground! It's cold.. you hated the cold.." He shook his head, before taking off his jacket and covering her grave. "I promised you'd never be cold with me.. but I also promised I'd keep you safe, so.."
He laughed, not a hint of positivity in it, all bitterness. "At least let me keep one promise."
His mind ran with memories. Her in that stunning gold dress, dancing with her, the dinner party.. then the vampires attacking them, her being voted in with Destorm. And then, finally--
He woke up.
Cold sweat running down his forehead, having soaked his shirt even with the cold air coming through the windows.
It was.. a dream?
He checked. Yeah, Lauren was right there next to him, blonde hair covering her pillow.
He could've cried of complete, pure, utter relief.
Hiding his face in his hands, he let himself calm down, slowly catching his breath until it was even with hers.
"Oh, God, Lauren.." He whispered, looking over at her. Alive. Chest moving up and down. Pulse subtly visible in her neck.
He has got to stop watching horror movies before bed.
Alex reached over, running a hand through her hair, then continuing down her jaw.
The ticklish sensation made her twist and turn. "Alex..?" She yawned. ".. 's that you? What are you doing?"
".. crap, sorry, sweetheart.." He whispered into her shoulder as he laid back down and hugged her from behind.
"Why are you sooo sweaty?" She groaned. "What were you doing?"
"Just a nightmare. Horrible one, but.. just a dream. Go back to sleep." He nodded. "Everything's fine, promise."
"Uh huh.. g'night, love you," she nodded as she rolled back over.
His stomach twisted at the words in the best way possible.
"I love you too."