Chapter 5: Funeral

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Winter's POV

I woke up the next day not recalling how I actually made it to my bed. Flashes from the night before came back to me in waves but it was too early to be thinking.

Why was I awake anyway...

"WINTER!" Tyler's voice boomed from somewhere in the house.

There it was.

Groggily I pulled myself out of bed, grabbed my robe and some house slippers, and slowly made my way to the main room.

Not before stubbing my pinky toe on my dresser, running into my bedroom door (which is usually never closed... Strange), tripping over my door rug, and jabbing my hip against the corner of my book desk.

Tyler was about to die.

Tyler's POV

"WHAT!" I heard Winter scream from the kitchen doorway.

I turned around from the coffee filter to take in her appearance. She was wearing a baggy 'I Need Coffee' shirt and some cropped leggings.

Her arm tattoos were visible and beyond mouthwatering, her soft curls pulled back into a messy bun.

Even in the simplest outfits, I still found myself drooling.

"It's broken." I replied, gesturing towards the coffee machine.

"Tyler... Please tell me you did not just break my coffee maker..." Winter warned, her eyes darkening.

I grinned sheepishly at her, attempting to make the already doomed situation a bit better. She sighed, walking into the kitchen and bending down to inspect the damage.

"I'm going to a funeral today." She stated getting up, unplugging the coffee machine, and throwing it in the trash. The way she said it stirred something in me, the statement held sadness but it felt like so much more then that. Like there was history, a past.

"Oh, who passed?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice normal.

"My poetry slam leader." She replied, opening up one of the bigger cupboards. searching for something.

"You're in poetry slam?" I asked, completely taken by surprise. I knew she enjoyed poetry but I never knew she wrote her own.

"Yep. You can come if you like." She answered, pulling out a new coffee machine and walking over to the counter to plug it in.

"Sounds good." I replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

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Winter's POV

"Ugh." I sighed, pulling down the tight black dress. I was an emotional wreck all morning getting ready for the funeral. This was the first time I would be attending one since the accident.

I walked over to my bed, crouching down to pull out a violin case. I laid it on my bed, gently propping it open.

I made my way over to my violin about to pick it up.

I hesitated.

My fingers started to gently trace along its carvings. I hadn't touched it in years, not since the accident. Conflicts started to arise inside me. Did I really have to fallow through with this? Did I really have to attend?

Those questions were quickly pushed down when I remembered Lewis. Everything he did for me when I was completely broken, unlovable. He was one of the few I let through then.

I gently wrapped my fingers around the neck of the violin, picking it up and placing it in the case.

Showtime.

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