❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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» when i was older «
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SCOUT PAXTON WAS STAINED; DIRT WAS PRESSED INTO HER KNEES, TEARS LINGERED IN HER EYES, AND A DARKNESS WAS PLACED ON HER HEART. Her fingers were wrapped around five stems with yellow tulip buds tangled together on top. She gently laid the bundle of flowers down on the grass in front of her, the bright, blue ribbon representing the hue of emotion she felt inside of her own spirit. Inside she felt cracked, like the contents of her heart were leaking out across the ground underneath her.
The sky was a muted gray color, staring down at the girl who was kneeled in front of a tombstone. The setting around her was bleak and depressing, and a bird's eye view would reveal a small shadow surrounded by a sea of monumented memories, each stone arranged perfectly in a line across the brown grass.
The wind blew slightly, rustling the tree branches and ruffling Scout's hair, a few pieces blowing over her face. She leaned forward, gently placing the stems of tulips on the grass in front of the tombstone. Her fingers reached for the stone, tracing over the letters that read In loving memory of Judith Gale Abbott, September 22, 1945 - April 19, 2018.
The memory of her Nani remained in her mind like a prized collectible, precious to think about but unable to open in fear it might break. It gathered dust and stayed there unharmed. However, like all memories, it began to fade, slowly but steadily. She was afraid that one day she would forget the way her grandmother's voice sounded or how warm her embrace felt. It had been a fear she'd already lived through with her mother and father.
She had missed the funeral. She wasn't even sure when the burial was, but after fighting in Africa and disappearing for five years, the day had come and gone. So here Scout was, paying her own dues in solitude and sorrow. The others had offered to come with her, but she wanted to be alone. It was intimate, and she wasn't afraid to cry, letting her tears silently land upon the soil, watering the grass.
