𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

4 | 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

DADDY'S FUNERAL

✧

Five straightened his posture as he was standing in the door of Eleanore's room. Memories of them filled his mind immidiately and he couldn't bear the melancholy they have brought with themselves. He never admitted it, but her room was always his sanctuary too; a safe place where he could run to if he felt down or when he just wanted to see her.

He inhaled deeply at the memory of them laying on the floor, him whispering those few words to her, so carefully that she feared he was messing with her. It moved something in him deeply - seeing those two figures on Eleanore's neat floor, facing each other and breathing in the other's exhales. It didn't look that harmful back than, but now, standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, Five realised how much it affected him. In that moment, leaning against the doorframe, he seemed so genuenily sad that Klaus forgot about the hurt look on Eleanore's face and tried to approach him - although, by the time he reacted Five had already blinked away.

✧

Standing in the rain was one of Eleanore's favourite things, but now, considering that she was there to honor her so called father's memory, fhe only thing she wanted was going home. Her yellow umbrella didn't match the other's black covers, nor the mood of a funeral, but beside Klaus' transparent one with a cheerful pink line she couldn't care less (these colorful umbrellas were their little matching friendship bracelets by the way). Five carefully looked in her directon from under his umbrella; she was smoking a new cigarette and was lighting another one for Klaus and it made the boy wonder if she was one of those stereotyped nicotine-addicts who smoke a pack of cigarette every day. Luckily for her, she wasn't one of those people.

Thanks to Elliot, who was regularly scolding her for it.

Around them the others stood in a cricle, looking expectedly at Luther as he looked back at all of them before looking down at the ashes in his hands. "Whenever you're ready, dear boy." Pogo said. The words made Eleanore remember how he was always there for them instead of Reginald; how he should burn his coffin or how she should do it for him. Pogo was always kind to them; comforting them when they were scolded, in despair or complitely clueless. He was always the one who got there first and tried to help - then, of course, Grace would come with her always perfect smile and charming attitude, but still, Pogo was their father instead of their father.

Luther flashed a pityful glance to the urn in his hands - she wasn't sure, but Eleanore might have seen some innoncent tears gathering in his eyes, although probably only by respect instead of pure love. This was something that made her want to puke (pure love was never really Reginald's style and it wouldn't have suited him either), but she tried to hide it for Luther's sake. He opened the metal which contained their father's ashes and breathed in deeply, then emptied it. However, there was no wind that day; the ashes fell to the ground pathetically in the heavy rainfall and Eleanore let out a snort. She wasn't one to blame - she couldn't hold it anymore and it was way better than the laugh that was threatening to break out.