What I Do For A Living (MCR Fanfic)

No Time To Waste

/Officer Frank's P.O.V/

She's still beautiful, even how many times I see her the same way, even how many days I haven't seen her the same way, even though she will never be the same way... again. I bit my lips and shut my eyes closed. I will never get used to this empty feeling, even how long it had been.

I stood in the center of the cemetery under a lavender sky as the sun began to set somewhere far from us. Her gravestone stood sturdy as I studied her name, etched with much grace and meaning. Beside her gravestone were fresh flowers, along with the ones I got her yesterday and the day before that.

I send her flowers every day, and I won't stop.

I send her love every day, and I can't stop.

My other police buddies went out for some snacks to bring back to the station, and I tagged along, since they said that their favorite store was close to Emily's grave. They knew about her; of course, she was the reason I got my job anyway.

Emily and I had been together for about 5 years now.

That is, to include the days she had been away from this world, also.

<flashback>

Back then I was working as an employee in a grocery store near the library she worked in. I had always a fascination for books, and when my shift was over or during my days-off, I went to that library and fed my fascination for books.

After a few times, I ended having a fascination for her.

I was probably what most 'educated' people would avoid- you know, I had lip piercings, a tattoo on my neck that droops down to my chest which I proudly showed off by wearing V-necks, I loved to smoke (not weed though) and I always sported a messy-ass hairstyle that covered my eyes. I was your stereotypical cutting-wrists-every-time emo boy, but that was never true.

When I went to her workplace, she remarked at how cool I seemed when I asked about where to find certain books, and that I didn't look like that sort of person to even read.

It started there.

Her soft, short blond hair and eyes of green may be common to other women, but she, oh she, she was always remarkable for me. Only she bothered to get to know me truly, only she unlocked a place in my heart without having a judge-mental, stereotypical mind. She allowed me in, and we talked about stories we read, and places we want to go.

Eventually, we wanted to have our own story, together.

From then, we had lunch together, I helped her sort the books in the library, became her personal guard whenever creepers tried to make a move at her, and I picked her up and walked her home, without ever demanding to come in, until she felt safe with me. I let her take her time, and she didn't take too long.

And it felt just right. More perfect than anything I have read in her library, and our imaginary future together seemed more organized than any other author. I do not know what she found in someone like me- maybe comfort? Difference? Fascination about how tough I look, but how soft she makes me feel?

I never knew, and I will never know.

She convinced me to continue school, finish and pursue my dreams. Back then, I wanted to be a psychologist

Then, it happened.

It was just one night- one night, I had to prepare an exhibit in school for the following week, so I stayed behind and do a little over-time. I texted her that I can't pick her up on time. I also texted that I would hurry to at least catch up, and she trusted me, so she decided to also do an over-time while waiting for me.