✓ lights /styles au/

15 Instrumental

i can't forget you like you want me to.

Two days passed. Harry pretended Jo actually slept at night and reasoned with himself that maybe she ate while he was sleeping.

He found time to send all the letters written by Will to his father, Mr. Wilson, and promised he'd stop by the house to make sure he was doing well. He also found time to call William's former doctor to ask him a few questions regarding the medication he told him to give to the teenager before he died, and the medication that was taken instead.

The hospital Will ended up in refused to send Harry a copy of the autopsy, and he bit his tongue when one of the nurses became a bit too aggressive over the line.

The school officials also called him and said he had to take an interview with them so they could make sure he wasn't emotionally or mentally scarred. He agreed and when they suggested he see a therapist, he held himself back from denying with the dynamic assailment that came to mind. Because he was a counselor and why would he need a therapist?

By the time dates were set and condolences were said to the one person who really needed it, Josephine asked Harry to accompany her to her father's funeral which was the same day.

He went out to get himself a suit, and then got her a black dress since she seemed too exhausted to leave her apartment. The dress was too short on her so he had to go back to exchange it for another one that seemed to him a little too thin.

She thanked him and they went on their way to the cemetery, hand in hand. He suggested they take a cab if she didn't feel like driving, but she declined. Something about cabs smelling like cigarettes and how she didn't want the smell to get in her clothes.

When they arrived, Josephine smoothened her dress with her palms, ridding them of sweat before tugging on Harry's suit jacket. "I want to be a pallbearer," she said quietly. Harry heard the unease in her voice as she tried not to dwell too much on the people she said were very unfamiliar.

"Okay," Harry said, nodding his head and licking his lips. His tinted glasses were still shielding his eyes and making him feel younger than he really was. "Okay, yeah. Do you want me to help or do you want me to hold the seats?"

Jo opened her mouth to speak but was cut short by the sound of her mother's voice.

"Josephine, I knew you wouldn't miss this. Dan was so sure you wouldn't show."

Harry's hand tightened over hers, trying to send his encouragement through the small gesture. "Who are all these people? Dad didn't know many people."

"We needed to fill this place somehow, right? Dan's family was so kind enough to show their support for us that we thought it only made sense-"

"Well Dad didn't know Dan's family so I don't see why they're here. I thought it was going to be family only."

"You brought your friend, dear. Never mind the fact that he's wearing sunglasses to such an event. Harry, dear, I think-"

"He can keep his glasses on," Jo interrupted. Harry had already lifted his hand, preparing to remove them. He scratched his nose instead, feeling the tension build up as he tried to hold on to her. Make sure she was okay.

"Josephine, I don't like being interrupted. Don't be rude, it's not becoming of a lady. Now please go take your seat and wait for the service to begin."

"We're carrying the casket to the grave."

"Don't be silly, you're a lady. You can't be one of the pallbearers because that's a man's job."