Cold

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Pairing: Jacob Frye
Warning: death
Notes: Y'all grab some tissues or a box. You're gonna need it. I think.
Requested by: no one

You stared at the headstone, rereading it all over again. It was like yesterday your father was still alive, laughing and smiling at you.

Here he is now. Buried six feet underground. The cold rain of London splattered on your head and you ignored the cold.

You felt lost. Lonely. And cold. Absolutely cold.

Emmet was too busy dealing with the Rooks and looking after London. He hasn't said a word after the funeral and neither have you.

You heard crunching behind you and you didn't turn. You felt a hand resting on your shoulder and you knew who it was.

Tears started to pour down your cheeks and you sank to your knees, choking out a sob.

Your aunt Evie rubbed your back soothingly, allowing you to cry out your tears.

You missed him and she did too. Jacob was an extraordinary father, he raised you and Emmet well. He knew time was short when he had you but he didn't regret it. He loved you as much as he loved Emmet.

Evie helped you back to your flat. She gave your hand a squeeze and leaves. You wiped your tears away and walked through your flat.

Jacob bought this flat for you as a present on your eighteenth birthday, joking that you're finally getting rid of him after all these years.

And he was right. You did. He passed away because of a heart attack.

You found him in his flat, still on the kitchen floor; glossy hazel eyes boring into the ceiling. It took three Rooks to get you to let go of him as Emmet and two more Rooks took Jacob's body away:

Emmet didn't shed a tear, he didn't utter a word as he left the flat. In fact, he hasn't said a word to you at all.

You dropped your assassin robes on the back of an armchair and slid to the ground. You hugged your sides and started to cry again.

"It's okay, sport," said Jacob, brushing away your tears. "Don't cry, Daddy's right here and he's not leaving you cold and alone."

"Daddy, you lied."

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