Traces of You (Kit Harington & Emilia Clarke)

1. Summer

Keeping his eyes down, Kit watched as the mud under his feet slowly began to suck in the soles of his shoes. It had begun raining the moment the sun rose, stopping only for the second half of the funeral.

It wasn’t the best day for this event in particular, but he figured it was better now than later. The idea of not putting her to rest as soon as possible seeming unfair.

The past week and a half were a blur. His agent had called so many times, he’d terminated his cellphone account. He hadn’t been home since the accident, the fear of going inside without seeing her running down the steps to meet him preventing him from making it past the front steps. That was the only reason he hadn’t completed the process of disconnecting his house phone. He already knew the inbox on their answering machine was full. Their email inbox was already on the verge. Once everyone in his life realized that was the only available form of contact for them, they’d begun messaging him in hopes he’d respond to at least one.

Truth was, he didn’t know what to say.

Not to himself, or any of the people standing around him.

What he did know, was that his side hurt everytime he took a breath. Or moved, or did anything for that matter. His broken ribs were still reminding him of what happened, the dark red and purple bruise taking over his right side making it hard to look in the mirror. But it didn’t hurt as much as the hole in his chest.

“Almost done sweetheart.”

Looking up at the hand that slipped into his, Kit gave a tiny smile to his mom as she gently transferred a sense of ease over him. She’d found him checked into the nearest hotel just a day after the car accident. Despite the doctor’s wishes he’d checked himself out. He’d been met earlier that morning by two police officers, questioning him on his state during the time of the accident.

He and his wife were on their way home from a party at her best friend’s house. He hadn’t wanted to go in the first place, but after sitting through half a dozen scripts throughout the day he figured he’d stop by. Only when he arrived, he realized that her lack of resistance when he declined the invitation was not to avoid yet another argument. It was to ensure that he didn’t change his mind.

When he got there he found his wife seated in the corner with her boss. He wouldn’t have paid much attention to it, but with her working later and later the past few months added to the nature of their dwindling relationship he began to realize maybe his suspicions were true.

Like he’d told the officers, he wasn’t drinking that night. He was upset, yes. The idea of another man bedding his wife would never elicit cordial thoughts. They had been fighting in the car, her sudden admittance to his accusations distracting him for a brief second. One moment he’s thinking of getting the furthest away from her as possible, the next their car’s being rammed from the side. He didn’t remember the impact, although he was told to have been awake when drug from the car.

He’d told his mom he didn’t remember anything from that night but heading to the party, knowing she’d be heartbroken if she knew Ariana had planned on ending their marriage.

It wasn’t until he allowed his eyes to move past the flower arrangement that he found them attracting to one person in particular.