7.00 - 𝘼𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨

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THE LATE FALL weather consisted of about 45 degrees Fahrenheit weather and a light breezes. A coat and some sort of warm headwear were a combo worn by most of the people traversing the outside, and that's what Y/N had on.

He walked through the cemetery, holding a small bundle of bright purple Anemones. They were flowers that were grown and tended to during the current season. He didn't buy them from a shop...but had grown them himself.

Y/N eyed the gravestone ahead as he walked, then upon nearing it, he got on a knee and continued staring at it. The wetness from the grass, caused by the morning showers earlier, started to seep through his pant leg but he didn't mind.

 The wetness from the grass, caused by the morning showers earlier, started to seep through his pant leg but he didn't mind

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The young man swallowed and let out a exhale through his nose. He held the flowers in his hands as he looked at them, brushing his thumb through a few of the petals. He inhaled, trying to keep his composure.

Y/N had frequently come to the cemetery and visited them...but always found himself as emotional as the first time. Some things just never changed, especially when visiting a deceased person who was very important to him.

He finally took a breath, still looking at the bundle of flowers in his hands. He tried his best to keep in the tears.

"It's me again." He began with a sniffle, then let out a chuckle. "I know you're probably tired of seeing me all emotional."

This was how it always went, with Y/N speaking to the gravestone. Nothing else mattered during those times. It could've been with the summer sun shining down on him...the fall leaves surrounding him...or the specks snow falling in the winter. It didn't matter. In those moments...it was just them.

"I miss you. Lots of people still do. That mark you left on all of us...it's still there. I hope you know that. Yeah, I've probably told you that already. I'm sounding like a broken record...but it's true."

He weakly smiled and looked up from the flowers, finally eyeing the gravestone. He read the name etched on the marble, and an ache was felt in his heart. Reading it again felt just like the first time.

A single tear dropped from his eye and he could feel its icy wetness after a cold breeze passed by and hit his face.

A single tear dropped from his eye and he could feel its icy wetness after a cold breeze passed by and hit his face

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