It's Not My Style (EXO Kris fanfic) [#Wattys2016]

R&C

~When I first saw you....
I was afraid to meet you....
When I first met you....
I was afraid to kiss you....
When I first kissed you....
I was afraid to love you....
But now that I love you....
I'm afraid to lose you....~

                                            Anonymous

"First your beer, then scarf, then keys, phone, wallet, even shirt!" I complain as Bradley makes himself comfortable on my sofa. Seriously what's with him? Since I've been a little nice to him lately, he comes here without a warning. Is this 'Diane's Free Lodging' or something? When did I start the business?

"Did you find it?" He asks opening a can of beer and turns his attention to the dog that came crawling to his feet, "Are you hungry Bubble?"

Snatching the dog from him I glare, "I told you not to call him that," I then set the dog in front of his bowl and give him some fried chicken.

"Stop forgetting your things in here," I hand him his credit card, "this isn't a lost and found you know?"

"I know," he gulps down the last of his beer and smiles, "but how else am I supposed to see you?"

        David's (POV)

Squeezing the bouquet of marigolds in my hands, I look out the window to check my surroundings. We're still not there and I'm glad. This isn't my first time going to a cemetery, I've gone once when I was 6.

To bury my father.

"Your grandmother," Clive, sitting next to me and staring at the chair in front of him, speaks, "she wasn't alone," he then blinks a few times and looks at me. Bowing his head politely, "The staff, business partners, your friends, they were all here for her funeral."

His words ease my tension and I smile. I was worried that there'd be no one to send her away. No one to say a few kind words. No one to pray for her. I'm thankful that none of that happened.

The car comes to a stop, indicating only one thing, we've arrived. Clive stretches out his hand for the door and I place mine on his shoulder.

"Please," I beg, "I want to be alone."

Clive adjusts his glasses with a nod, saying, "Of course." I then take the marigolds in my right hand and with the left open the car door.

The parts of my feet peeking through the black sandals, feel the wet grass making my steps feel heavy. Each step I take, makes the cruel reality dawn upon me. Makes me want to disappear with the wind that ripples through my black dress.

Oh wind, please carry me away. Wherever it is you're going. Wherever you may end up. Take me with you. But if you cannot, then take my words with you. I grip the arrow necklace and close my eyes. I have things to say so please act as my messenger.

I then open my eyes to the two tombstones side by side.

~Richard Wills~ ~Rachel Chisevil~
1968-1996. 1945-2018.