The Boy In The Cemetery

Safe

"Is this really all you have?" Adrian asked as I gathered a small boxful of my things. I nodded, slightly embarressed. All I owned were some dresses and a few books that I had stashed everywhere.

After the wedding Adrian and I decided to buy a small house. Not too far from the city but far enough so we wouldn't be in the middle of the hazard of London. We were gathering the household items that he had and then stopped by my dads house to pick up my stuff.

He managed to be able to borrow the Phantomhive carriage for a little bit while we moved the stuff. The house was small. It had two bedrooms, we figured one for us and one for a guest seeing if we had one. There was a kitchen and a living room.

I unpacked the few dresses I had into a dresser. Then I stacked my books on top. We invested in a new bed, a king size bed so we could have our space. My father had helped us pay for the move, as a wedding present.

"(Y/N)? Oh there you are" Adrian said as he entered our room.

"Yeah?" I looked over my shoulder at him. Since the wedding I had been cutting his hair every morning and each day it grew back shorter by a quarter of an inch. I convinced him to stop wearing those old robes and he began wearing normal 17 year old boy clothes. He wore faded jeans with boots, a white shirt and waistcoat on his upper half.

"I kind of burnt it again" he smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck. All day he has been trying to perfect his toast. I made a wooden contraption where it had many prongs on it that held your piece of bread and you just hovered it over the fire.

"What am I goin to do with you?" I sighed as I smiled, approaching the doorway to come help him. We went back to the fire in the kitchen and I crouched down to help him.

"You need to make sure it doesn't touch the flame" he held the stick that supported the rest and his hand wavered. I reached up and steadied his hand.

"Ah, thank you. I think I get it now" he said laughing quietly.

"Are you sure? You've said that about ten times already" I giggled.

"Yeah, I'm sure" I stood up and he stood with me, quickly placing a kiss on my cheek. He's been showing these small signs of affection all the time since the marriage. It was refreshing, yet it continuously reminded me of all of my past that was linked to him.

All of my memories had some part of him in them from the time I could remember. I remember I was over joyed when my mother was pronounced pregnant. When I was growing up it was rare for a woman to have more than one child.

Everyday I returned to that graveyard to tell him the good news, hoping to see him so I could spread my joy. But he never came.

Then during labor my mother passed away along with the unborn baby girl. I continued to go to that cemetery, hoping I could talk to someone. Someone who would be caring about it. Someone who would not tell me to grow up everytime I cried.

Still he never showed. After my mother passed my father began getting violent and drunk. And I still kept going to that safe place. My safe place.