((tw: funerals)) (also fun fact, I'm writing this while on a date)
Winter was the season of death. George's mother passed on November 8th. They didn't bury her until December. It was cold that day. Chill came in the night and frosted everything over with a soft sheet of snow. The freshly laid snow glistened in the cold afternoon sun, shining like a cluster of stars.
The only attendees that showed where the Founder siblings and a priest. Clay wanted to come but it was against George's wishes to do so. The siblings would go over to his house after anyways.
The priest mumbled the words of god, bidding farewell to the dearly beloved mother of two bright souls. George bit his tongue. If his mother was 'beloved' as the priest had said, where was everyone else? Why was it just them here, grieving their mother?
George glanced down at his younger sister. Her once amber eyes, so full of life had dimmed. They were glossed over as tears built up on her lower lid. Eliza was staring blankly as the hole in the ground, they had yet to lower the casket down. Her nose tinted a soft red as the cold held her close.
George sniffled slightly, bringing his gaze back to the priest as he finished his soliloquy about having faith in God. He swayed slightly, as if the frigid winds pushed and pulled at him. The graveyard workers then came and swiftly lowered his mother in the ground. Eliza was softly crying now. Placing a comforting hand in her shoulder, he squeezed.
The real battle was just beginning. He and Eliza were in their own. George needed to be the guardian of Eliza through court, and the whole issue of their father still stood looking overhead like a gargoyle in a quiet Paris street.
But the difference was, George had support now. He no longer carried the weight of several lives in his shoulders alone. He accepted the fact he didn't have all the answers and it was okay to fail. It only took four years.
George cringed as the first shovel of dirt fell into the hole. The soft and hollow-sounding thump foretelling the dirt banging again the casket. It was all surreal until he heard the dirt. Tears blurred his vision before slowly falling down his rosy cheeks. Once the service was finished, Eliza just turned and walked to the car. George solemnly nodded, she processed her own way.
He stared at the headstone. It was small, and built into the ground. It was more of a plaque really. The words 'Isabelle Jane Founders. Loving Daughter and mother. Beloved by all whom meet her' followed by dates. George narrowed his vision. Again with the beloved. If she was beloved by all, why did their father leave? George released the tension in his shoulders, breathing out a long and heavy sigh. It wasn't his place to ask such question. Not anymore. He had come to terms with a lot recently.
He walked until the grave was complete, the stop mound of dirt sitting neatly on top. George dipped his head in thanks to the workers and turned on his heels to leave the cemetery. Eliza was already in the car, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. She had her headphones on and her eyes shut. George quietly entered the drivers side and started the car. It roared to life with a gentle hum. The ride to Clay's house was silent.
Once at the house, Eliza walked in without a word. She disappeared upstairs to the guest room, no doubtibly to mourn her own way. George barely managed to park the car before she got out. He followed in after her, though George was greeted by a different scene. Clay sat on the couch, a movie paused at the very beginning, warm blankets and pillows scattered around, fresh tea and warmed goods on the coffee table.
"What... is this..?" George asked in a hushed tone, hanging his coat on the rack.
"Last time something was wrong, you wanted a distraction." Clay got up and walked over to him. "I prepared a distraction." He smiled softly. "Don't worry, me and Drista fixed up where Liz is staying, she should be comfy, and if she needs anything Drista is down the hall." He explained.
George let a gentle grin tug at his lips. "Your parents?"
"At work." Clay outreached his hand towards George. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing it.
Clay lead George down the small archway into the living room, where he proceeded to sit on the couch and pull George on top of him. Clay leaned back, allowing George to get comfortable on his person. Once the boy was settled, Clay pulled the blanket over them and started the movie, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy he loved.
"Wait." George gasped as sat up, staring at the screen. "Is this..."
"The movie you picked when you first came over to my house?" Clay finished his sentence for him. George nodded, causing Clay to laugh lightly. "Yes you idiot." He purred lovingly and pulled George back down. "It made you happy then... thought it would make you happy now..."
"You make me happy." George stated matter-of-factly. Clay's face flushed a ginger pink.
"And you make me happy." He placed a gentle kiss on George's lips before laying back down fully.
During the duration of the movie, George nodded off a few times. The first time he had gotten decent sleep in so long. At one such point, Clay noticed George, sleeping peacefully on his chest. George was just absolutely stunning. Clay turned the movie down slightly and made sure George was covered with the blanket, before he too fell asleep.
