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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
In a drab of black and the weary, Eleanor Saint stood against Felix's casket, stuck staring at it for so long that her dress had gone wet from the pouring rain.
She watched as they lay the expensive wood on the ground, six feet under, and slowly, dirt covered the remains of Felix Catton. First, the flowers, then his teddy, and then the daisies that Elle placed right in the middle as an insult-because daisies smell like cat piss. On her hand was a bottle of wine that she never ran out of, conveniently brought by servants who followed them everywhere they went.
Elle kneeled in front of the freshly filled grave, letting her hands run on the dirt, clutching it in her cold palm. "Ellie." A voice whispered from behind, holding her arm as it kneeled beside her. "Ellie, come on." Venetia whispered, fighting back the sob that kept escaping her throat.
She looked at Vee, blinking the rain that poured against her eye, and with a trembling lip she spoke, "I wanna be with him, Vee." The Catton girl flinched, and then she cried on her shoulders.
"I'm so sorry, Ellie." Venetia whispered.
"I want to be with him." She repeated, moving her hand to take a drink. "Don't you?" Elle said, almost on the verge of laughing. Vee thought she'd probably lost her shit entirely, like the rest of them. On the days leading up to Felix's funeral, Elle locked herself in Felix's room, stewing, screaming, crying. The only ever time they managed to convince her to get out was to ask if she wanted to see Felix one last time. And it stuck to her, to Venetia Catton, that she'd never see her brother again. Her life will never be complete, ever again. Her heart tore over and over until she keeled over and cried at the grave.
The girls only stood up when Sir James and Duncan lifted them off the ground and led them away. They went to a river, Elle falling behind with a brand new bottle of alcohol, and watched as they dropped a stone on the water. A stone with his name on it.
Initially, Venetia wanted to hand her the stone, but afraid she'd chuck it further than she's supposed to, Elle refused and stood back.
Felix.
Goodbye, Felix fucking Catton.
The rain continued to pour and Eleanor Saint returned to Felix's grave.
The dirt had almost cemented itself to the ground, the land beyond was empty, and darkness had come. Saint took a step, and walked right in the middle of his grave, balancing the bottle of wine at the top of his lavish headstone.
