"You and I both know that any girl would kill to be in your position, with me, right now." He smirks, knowing that what he's said is completely and utterly true.
Lea Wilson and River Parker don't mix; they don't like the same things, their lives are...
I promised you that I will never give up on this, and I'm keeping that promise.
Please check out the authors note at the end, it will explain everything.
Happy reading!
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Lea
There are many words that I could use to describe Emily's funeral, from beautiful and emotional to absolutely heart-crushing. The beauty of it stems from the vast amount of people who showed up to bid their farewells and respects. The emotion results from the uncountable amount of people who were moved to tears from all the eulogies read out, including River's.
Finally, the heart-crushing facet of the afternoon comes from the fact that I watched a person, who I care for more than my own self, break down as he threw some dirt atop of his sister's grave as she was lowered into the ground.
I did not care that my father, or Georgia, or anyone for that matter could see how I hugged River as he cried into my shoulder, I just hugged him.
After the funeral, we made our way back to the Parker's house where the reception is currently being held. After parking the car outside by the fountain, River and I make our way to the front door, hands interlocked and never dissociating.
"Thank you," he says for what feels like the millionth time today as we both climb up the stairs and reach the front door.
"You need to stop saying thank you, River," I say with gently squeeze of his hand.
His already glittering eyes are glazed over with fresh tears, "thank you," he breathes again. "You're everything."
The warmth of his words melt me, but I try not to let it show as we head into the house. Once we step inside, a few unfamiliar heads twist to peruse us as we enter further. Some direct their empathetic expressions towards River, whereas others seem more curious. Inventorying the people before him, he strokes my hand before stepping forward and to begin welcoming his guests.
For the next half an hour, River moves from person to person, greeting them and thanking them for coming, meanwhile I'm glued to his side, exchanging friendly yet strained smiles with people I've never met before. Some ask of myself, allowing River to introduce me as 'his girlfriend, Lea'. Every now and then, between moving around the entrance to talk to more people, he would whisper in my ear either an 'I love you' or a 'thank you', to which I respond 'I love you more' and 'stop saying thank you'.
No matter how many times though, he doesn't seem to quit. If he thinks he's in some sort of debt to me, he should think again. If anything, I should be the one thanking him, I think I've done more growing up in the past few months of knowing him than in my entire life put together.
