[PREVIOUSLY TITLED: THE TRAGEDY OF SPRING]
❝ Goodbyes are temporary, because no one ever really leaves. ❞
(F/n) (l/n) thought that her past would wash away like rain. Nothing left behind. Not a trace of what happened.
But as always, the rain comes a...
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There was a sense of despair hanging in the air.
Boots crunching in the snow, a boy held a bouquet of roses, the soft substance falling lightly onto his shoulders. The rest had disappeared long ago and he was the only one there, muffler wrapped tightly around his neck.
He wasn't the only one who brought flowers. His father must've left some for her too.
After all, his mother was the one who lightened up the household and kept everyone smiling, even if it was just for a moment.
But now she was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Placing the flowers onto the grave, he took one last look at the name and smiled.
