What Happened in Winter [boyxboy]

Chapter Fifteen

Craft POV

The car ceased all sound and movement when Craft parked it. The sun had already set, making the wrought iron fence and tomb stones ahead glow faintly in the moonlight.

"A... cemetery..?" River asked. Craft couldn't tell if River was amused or afraid. He rubbed an absent thumb against the pale boy's hand and smiled faintly.

"We'll be fine. There's just something I want to see," Craft said and got out of the car. River followed closely behind.

—————————————————————

River POV

The two boys stood in front of a beautiful yet simple grey tombstone. The name etched into its surface was glaringly familiar; a name River had heard many times, but had never met the person attached to it.

"Jayson Dimitri Ivanov," River read aloud. A small plush white bear with the initials "J + A" stitched on it's tummy and an assortment of fresh, colorful flowers rested in a plain white vase in front of the grave.

"He... was always too bright for this world," Craft said. "Too good for it. He was always the person you saw first in photographs. He was special to all of us."

River didn't think it was the correct time to take Craft's hand in his, but he wanted to do just that. He didn't want him to feel alone.

"I feel like an imposter. I'm trying so hard, Jay. I really am. But, I wouldn't feel so guilty if you were here." Craft's voice swayed and River could tell from his glassy eyes and puckered lips that he wanted to cry, but couldn't.

"Why couldn't it have been me?"

River wasn't able to tell what he meant by that last statement. Did Craft wish he was the person in the grave instead? Or did he wish to be the "A" initial written on the white bear?

"I'm sorry," Craft whispered, seemingly to both Jay's grave and River. The taller of the two boys was kneeling on the hard earth, his hands laid aimlessly in his lap.

River settled next to Craft and dug a thin finger into the ground. He itched to grab a cigarette from his pocket, but remembered he had none.

"Don't apologize for nothing. Being a friend is more than just hanging out. A friend should be there when you need them most," River said. Craft looked up at that, his golden eyes morphing to silver in the dim lighting. River could see a tiny brown freckle that perfectly blemished his left eye. 'He tries so hard to be the sun, but he's a scattered assortment of stars,' River thought to himself.

"Do you really think I'm a bad friend?" Craft asked pitifully.

"I've never thought you were a bad friend. If you had listened better you would have noticed I said you should be a better friend. You were never bad, just not exactly good."

Craft ran a hand through his perfect chestnut brown hair and stared up at the night sky. "I wish I had met you sooner. Maybe if I had, I could've... become a better person sooner."

"Life is all about experience, Craft. Sometimes we have to suffer to become better," River said.

"But it's not fair," Craft sounded defeated, his head falling into his open palms.

"Life in general isn't fair," River said.

Craft POV

They sat in silence for a moment until River broke it.

"Could I... uh," the smaller boy started, his fingers wrapping around blades of grass and yanked them hard from the ground. "Could I hear about Jayson?"