Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

His Grave

"Pink carnations. A beautiful selection. They often symbolize gratitude, but I much prefer the other meaning of 'I will never forget you'. Whoever you're giving these to is very lucky." The florist winked.

Smiling tightly, you handed the old woman your money and accepted the flowers. "Thank you," you said quickly, before ducking out of the flower shop and making your way to your car. You still had a few places left to visit before the day ended.

***

It didn't take long for you to find parking. You weren't surprised; the cemetery wasn't usually teeming with people on a sunny day like this. Over the past three years, it had become a routine of yours to visit for a few hours every Saturday. Others might call it morbid, but for you, it was just simply what had to be done.

You didn't have to think much about where you were going, your feet carrying you across the familiar dirt path to the grave you had visited so many times before. "Hey Peter," you said softly, kneeling in front of the headstone. "I brought you some flowers. They're carnations, pink ones. The old lady who runs the flower shop says they mean 'I will never forget you', which I think is fitting here." Carefully, you placed the flowers across the headstone, brushing away dead leaves and trash. Then, you laid down on the grass next to the grave, looking at the headstone expectantly, as if at any moment Peter might pop out and yell, "Surprise! These past three years have all been a big prank, and I'm actually alive after all!" Of course, that didn't happen. You took a shaky breath. The beginning was always the hardest part. "It's been three years," you said quietly.

"Three years without you, and I still don't know what I'm doing. I miss you every day, babe. But if I'm being completely honest with myself, it also gets easier every day. I find myself smiling at little things again. Like, just the other day, I saw a hawk soaring across the sky, and I didn't feel the slightest bit sad as I watched it go. You would have liked to see that hawk, Peter, I know you would have. If you were there with me, you would've raced after it, running until it was out of sight, and even then you would've tried to chase it. You were like that, you know? Always running, in pursuit of the little things that make you happy. That's part of what I love-- no, loved, about you." You sighed, a melancholy feeling taking over. "So anyways, what's new with me since the last time we talked? I got into NYU, but still no financial aid. I'm deciding between that and Georgetown. I know if you were here, you'd tell me to go with my gut, and my gut says NYU, but it's so expensive. But you'd tell me it's my dream school, and you'd be right. What else? Oh, MJ has a girlfriend-- some artsy girl, totally the opposite of what you'd expect for her." You laughed a little before continuing. "I... I met someone new, too. His name is James. He's really smart, and funny, and sweet, and... I think you would like him, Peter. I know I do. Whenever I'm with him, I feel like I'm betraying your memory a little bit, but then I think that you'd want me to be happy. And I am happy. When I'm with him, I'm happy. It feels a bit strange to say out loud, but James really does make me happy. And... it's still hard, believe me. Letting go of you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But it does get easier every day. If there's anything I've learned over the last three years, it's this. We only have one life. So I'm going to do what you always told me to: I'm going to embrace it."

Gently, you kissed your fingertips, then brushed them across Peter's name. "Bye, Peter," you said. "I'll be back next week."