Brightside | ✓

32 | dead mom

It worried Eddie how uncomfortable she was with waking up alone in bed. It worried her more that Axel wasn't in the hotel room at all when she looked around. No shower running, bathroom empty. Last time she'd seen him in there had been the night before anyway—the wine hadn't lasted long in his stomach, nor did the room service that Eddie had ordered for both of them.

needed to go for a walk. didn't want to wake you. shouldn't be long. i'll bring food. Was the text she received two hours prior. It didn't take her long to figure out what that meant and catch a cab there. Only stopped to buy a bouquet at a stand on the corner of a street. Tipped the driver and the florist more than she needed to.

Eddie found Axel among the headstones on 500 Canterbury Street, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She approached him cautiously, tried to get into his peripheral so he could see her coming from as far away as she could manage. When he noticed her, he wiped his face quickly with his hand. Bit his lip as more tears fell. Not that she would've criticized his feelings, but she gave him a moment to compose himself as she laid the flowers down in front of the headstone.

Wordlessly, Eddie sat beside him; she knew who he was visiting but that didn't make the etching any less hard to see, even from an outside perspective.

ROSE JAMES-CANTERBURY

10.10.1964 - 03.08.2012

Beloved mother and wife

There was a small inscription at the top of the headstone. Each word on a different line. time / my / fighting / with. That corner was weathered unlike any of the others. Like it had been held close versus simply looked at. The words lined up perfectly with Axel's tattoo—Eddie had memorized it, after all.

Eddie put a hand on Axel's shoulder and rubbed it with her thumb—maybe one day, she'd weather him down too. After all, she was corrosive.

Not enough to deter him. He rested his head on her shoulder. Nobody commented on how he was louder than he wanted to be while he attempted to stifle his tears. Eddie wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ran her hand up and down. Wished there was a way to make it better—knew deep down there never would be.

It was sunny that day, which was strange because Axel's spirit had never felt greyer. It felt wrong that the sun came up; that it wasn't stormy. That Eddie hadn't woken up beside him and been able to bury him in a thousand kisses to promise him that they'd make that day better than the previous one had been. The sun came out despite the internal rain and there was nothing she could do to push away his clouds. And so, they sat there. Let the rain fall down Axel's cheeks as they rode out the storm.

His hair shone like sunshine through a pint glass and Eddie wanted to run her hands through it until he felt better. Hazel eyes were closer to green when they were red-rimmed and she never wanted to see them any shade of green ever again if it meant he was in as much pain as that moment. She took his hand and traced the lines on his palm—August used to do that to try and ground her when she came to her fights. Remind her of her roots. Surely Axel didn't need reminding, but the least she could offer was to tend to the soil.

"I was 17..." Axel's voice broke when he eventually spoke. The sound was rough and rotten. Scratchy. He cleared his throat. "Turned 18 two weeks later. She didn't even get to—I didn't get to see adulthood with her. She died before I graduated. Which was fuckin' hard to do because she died. And he—I know he was grieving too. But I'm their son and he just fell off the fuckin' deep end and left me alone. Left two empty seats at my graduation because he told me he didn't feel like it.