She walks on the freshly mown grass, her black pumps occasionally getting stuck in the dirt. A bouquet of orange roses is in her hands; a handwritten note in the other.
She bows her head slightly when she sees her destination. She doesn’t want to do this. She hates this place; she has for years.
Cemetery.
What a god awful name.
She’s dressed respectfully – she is a Styles after all. She wears a short, black strapless dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, with a long sleeve cardigan in the same color. His paper airplane necklace is the only jewelry she wears. Her hair is pulled up into an elaborate bun – she did have a sense of fashion nowadays – with her bangs hanging out.
She pays no mind to the dirt when she kneels on the ground. She gently traces the letters of his name with her fingertips. She blinks away the tears already threatening to fall.
Harold Edward Styles.
“Hi,” She finally says, after laying down the roses. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while. I finally finished college after all these years. I got my diploma yesterday.”
She sniffles, her voice cracking on the next words, “And I’ve been busy…planning the wedding.”
She looks down at her chipping nails, and says, almost ashamed, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be upset, but I’m almost twenty-seven. I can’t live with my mother for the rest of my life.”
She looks up at the sky, and the sun is hiding behind a cloud. It gives the graveyard an unsettling feeling. She clears her throat, and continues talking, “I told you about my fiancée, Logan, last time, remember? He’s a really nice guy. You’d like him. He’s funny – like you – he can always make me laugh. I swear it’s contagious. And he’s spontaneous. Last month he bought us two tickets to Paris, and we spent Christmas there. The guys were so excited when I brought pictures home. Logan’s smart too. Just graduated at the top of his class from Harvard. He’s a good person,” She gives a small chuckle, “He’s blonde – I always told myself I would never date a blonde – and now here I am, marrying one. It must be his blue eyes. They’re just so damn convincing.”
She flinches slightly, “Sorry. I know you don’t like it when I swear. It’s a nasty habit I’ve picked up over the past few years.”
There’s a brief pause, and she twirls the necklace around and around between her fingers, mulling over her next words.
“I love him. And I just feel so…guilty, because I love you too, but every time I think about it, I have to remind myself that you aren’t,” She stops suddenly, choking on her tears, before her voice takes a hysteric tone.
“—you aren’t here, and you haven’t been for a while, but I can’t help but wonder what my life might be like if you were still here.”
She’s able to find enough strength inside of her to continue. If she didn’t tell him now, she might not ever be able to.
“We’re having banana cream pie for dessert, as a tribute to you. The boys are going to play a few songs. I’m really shocked. They haven’t had a concert since—’’
She cuts off, unable to talk anymore. Instead, she pulls her hand up to her mouth, and chokes out loud sobs. The tears run down her face,
dripping onto her dress,
his necklace,
the flowers
…the note.
And it’s all just too much. She doesn’t want to be here anymore. She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to sit here, cry her heart out, and just forget.
“The hardest thing I’ve ever done is grow up without you. I know it wasn’t your fault, but what hurts so much is that I hardly remember you. I know that sounds absolutely terrible because I know your face, and I know your cheeky grin because I look at your photographs…but I don’t remember the things that made you you. I don’t remember the way you smell or your laugh or how your arms felt around me or how you sounded when you told me you loved me.”
She wipes away her tears, but more continue to fall, drenching her face, “Is Uncle Lou up with you now? Do you two sing together again? Are you not alone anymore? Is he with Aunt Shannon too? Is the cancer gone now?”
She grounds her molars together, trying not completely lose herself, but it’s too late. She’s too far gone. She doesn’t care anymore. The tears fall, and keep falling, and she cries for him, and for her mum, and for Louis, and Niall, and Zayn, and Liam, and all the people who were affected by his death.
But most of all, she cries for herself.
“I’m sorry,” She chokes out, “But I’m just so lost without you.”
Her father.
It’s at that moment, that Aria Styles realizes that she’s broken.
And she always had been.
-Fin
