Unbreakable smile

Chapter 1

Feliciano can think of so many things he'd rather be doing - like stabbing himself in the eye with a fork. But it's not like anyone ever asks him what he wants anyway. 

"We have gathered here today to remember Elvir Brandth," the priest says, voice loud in the fairly empty church. "On the behalf of the family I would like to welcome you-"

Feliciano closes his eyes. On the behalf of who? Things happen, he gets that, life happens, he doesn't have the full picture but-

but-

Who the hell doesn't come to her grandfather's funeral? 

She'd been accused of murder. Feliciano repeats this to himself while the priest drones on in the background. She'd been accused. Of. Murder. Of course she won't come. Of course. 

He knows this, knows all of the reasons why. But his brain can't seem to let go of the fact that she's not sitting in one of the uncomfortable benches in the small country church. Because despite what they accuse her of, despite of everything, Feliciano wants to see her. Just one more time. Because he's selfish, because he's been waiting for ten years, because he just... needs that. Needs her.

An ornamented casket lays by the altar. It's just a wooden box, but like the Tumblr quotes like to say - it's the inside that counts. It's the inside that makes Feliciano's skin crawl. There's a person in there. Someone that used to live and breath and put bandaids on Feliciano's knees when he scraped himself once again.

Even her parents didn't show up. And yeah, so, he learned over the years that Swedes look at family differently than he does. Feliciano is raised with the belief that family is everything, no matter what you think of them, no matter if you like them - family is family and there's that. 

Swedes think of family as people - you don't owe them anything by default. You don't love them by default. But her dad and her uncle loved their father, enough to ignore what anyone else would think of their presence in the church. And her mum is Croatian, which means she treats family the way Feliciano does - so why isn't she here? What could possibly have kept her away?

Come on. Anchor thoughts. He watches his flower arrangement, custom ordered all the way from Malmö (only the best), tower over the small bouquets from the rest of the village. He hadn't know what to order, what would suffice (only the best), so he went with all white everything. Lilies, carnations, roses... A couple of orchids. All tied together with finest silk (only the best for the old man).

He squirms and old Agda side eyes him. Feliciano turns towards the massive doors, but they remain shut.

"She's not coming," Jamie says in his ear, placing a hand on his thigh. "Easy now."

He is Feliciano Pavano, easy like a summer morning, but -

but -

They're all watching him. Some straight on like Agda, but most in the typical Swedish manner, a discreet turn of the head, pretending to look at something else, someone else. Some linger on Jamie's hand on his thigh. 

And usually he don't care, usually he likes it, but the walls are crowding in, high stone walls coming closer and closer and he's squished between his boyfriend and old Rune who smells like overripe plums. The walls are crowding in and everyone is watching and Jamie's hand rests heavy on his tigh and the casket lays in front of the altar, all ornamented because they cared enough to pay extra but not enough to show up. And any minute now they expect him to go up there and -

and -

"You're up love," Jamie says in his ear, squeezes his thigh.

Agda's eye twitches. Feliciano stands, because that's all there is to it. They asked him to do this, because it would be nice if a loved one would say some words. What they don't say is you're all that's left.