Tᴏᴋʏᴏ Rᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀs Lᴏᴠᴇʀ Sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs

Funeral flowers(Mikey x Y/N)

Y/Ns POV:

The funeral was held on a rainy day. The sky was a deep murky kind of grey, like the light had disappeared with him, and the clouds blocked what little of the sun could break through. Those pretty white roses lay on the casket, the very same ones he brought me on the very first date, poor boy had no idea about what to buy a girl and listened to Emma's advice.

It seems odd, standing without him by my side, eating in diners without having to worry about my food being stolen, not wondering if or when he'll be even come home. Because he won't.

He begged that day to go on that stupid bike ride "Pleaseeeee Y/N it's just a ride with Draken I'll be back wayyy before you know it!". He did that little puppy face he always did to get what he wanted . Hell really he always did. I was feeling nice that day and I wish I wasn't.

"Fine Mikey, but no fighting this time yeah? I don't want to be patching you up in the bathroom!" I recall shouting to him .

I thought all was fine till the call came.

"Hello is This (Ms/Mr) L/N?" The sullen toned woman asked through the phone, I distinctly remember hearing the clicking of keys as though I didn't have her full attention.

"uhm..Yes." I responded praying it'd be anything but that one call I was dreading

"You were Manjiro Sano's emergency contact, we regret to inform you he was involved in an accident. He died on the scene." The woman droned out as if it was all some inconvenience to her, as if she couldn't truly care.

My fingers tensed and I could feel the wetness forming in my eyes as the phone slipped out of my grasp. Every breath I took that night felt like I was suffocating slower and slower.

I remember the weak knees.

I remember the sobbing.

I remember the feeling of his dead cold hands.

I remember the hopelessness that came along with his death.

But most of all I remember the flowers.

Those funeral flowers were the death of me. The hours of strenuous labour of trying to find the perfect flowers for him, ones that would truly show who he was to me.

Tulips, Lilies, Bleeding Hearts. nothing could capture my Mikey like those white roses. Every Friday he'd turn up at the door with white roses and a smile. "Got them for you,baby." He'd say in that stupid sing song voice with a gigantic grin on his face.

Now I stand infront of his gravestone 'Manjiro Sano' in big black letters. 'Beloved Brother, Friend and Husband'. Those flowers. Those white flowers sit perfectly there. Those white flowers that he should have been the one delivering not sat on his gravestone.