dandelion // h.s.

t w e l v e

"It's rather unfortunate."

A deep voice from behind startles Boo; she turns quickly from the headstone, and her gaze falls on a tall man standing a few feet behind her. His keen eyes are focused on Martha's headstone. A single white lily resides between his slim fingers.

"What is?" Boo asks hoarsely, not bothering to mask her disinterest or the fact that she's been profusely crying.

"Her death," the man answers. He reaches out and gently places the lily on top of the stone.

"My grandmother's dead and you call it unfortunate?" Boo whispers. Her lip curls in a bitter sneer. "That's a bit insensitive, don't you think?"

His face is mostly shrouded in shadows from the clouds overhead, but a lingering ray of sunshine cuts across his face long enough for Boo to get a brief look at him: magnetic green eyes, angular nose, sharp jawline, and a hint of blonde stubble covering his chin. His expression is strangely blank - a stark contrast to the grief written on Boo's features.

The stranger clears his throat. "Restored innocence after death. That's what lilies mean. They're the most common flowers at funerals, after all. It's no wonder."

He shifts his meticulous gaze, now staring down at Boo for a fleeting moment before turning and walking away without another word. Boo watches him go, left with gritted teeth and a churning sensation in her stomach. He hadn't been at the funeral, and she doesn't recognize him from any of Martha's friend circles.

Still, strangers in a town like Jack Creek are always an odd occurrence. In a town this small, people are bound to cross territories sooner or later.

Before she leaves, Boo makes sure to brush the lily off the top of the gravestone and kick it into an empty patch of wet grass.

When she gets home that evening, the apartment lights are off and the street outside is quiet. It's barely dinner time but the entire neighborhood has chosen to abandon the warm summer air for the safety of their homes. After the wrath that Monroe displayed, she feels left out that she has no family to hold tight tonight. The rain continues as she drags her feet up the path and languidly unlocks the front door. A gust of air sweeps over her face and goosebumps ignite on her skin.

"Fucking freezing in here," she mutters as she shuts the door behind her. She can't remember having left the air on, but then again she and Martha left in a hurry the day before.

Fuck. A rock lands on her chest and she slumps against the front door in defeat. Was it really only a day ago that they were romping about her apartment, unpacking boxes and giggling over pancakes for breakfast?

The past few days are still incredibly surreal: the hurricane, Martha's death, the shoddy funeral. None of it seems like it should be true, yet the pain in her chest tells her otherwise. Reality was bound to hit her at some point or another, but that doesn't make accepting the truth any easier. She's spent days walking around feeling like a ghost.

Tears stir in Boo's eyes but she forces herself to walk into the kitchen.

And that's when she spots a note taped to her fridge, written in familiar script on a long yellow notepad. She plucks it off the fridge and nearly cries aloud when she sees who it's from.

Melita,

Good luck in your beautiful new place. I am so very proud of you, and just know that you will thrive in whatever you decide to do. I love you always,

Nana

The smell of rosemary and lemon hits her nose, and she's suddenly unable to keep the grief at bay any longer. Leaning over the sink, with the last note from her grandmother clutched in her trembling hand, she sobs and gasps for air, watching pieces of herself fall into the sink as she breaks down once more.

double update in the spirit of spooky week! hope you're all ready for the next week of updates :D