Author's words: Hi! Thank you for reading! It is my first time I write a fanfiction in English. Usually I wrote them in Chinese. And as I'm not very good at English I may had made some grammar or spelling mistakes here. Although my Word has the checking feature, I am quite nervous about the whole writing in English thing and I wish I did it right. I'm sorry if I did make any mistakes and a review is always welcomed. If you find any of my work is not proper or I had made any mistakes, please contact me in any ways so I can correct it as soon as possible.
Thank you again for reading!
"So that's it." Francis lifted his hand. He rearranged his hair a little bit, "You have to admit it's just too easy."
"Shut the fuck up, Francis, it is not…" Not easy for any of us. Antonio tossed a bunch of daisy towards the gravestone and snapped his head to the other direction. He couldn't bear looking to it again, that cold, lifeless, small boring stuff. He couldn't even bear thinking of its existence. That thing was nothing like his friend, nothing like that bad-ass idiot, noisy, fucked-up, over self-esteemed freak. And yet it stood there quietly, and deep inside he knew that it would never make another sound.
Francis knelt down, putting that bunch of vulnerable looking flowers on the black tomb. "We know it's going to happen, eventually. We know." Francis patted the cold stone and rubbed the names carved on it with his trembling thumb, "Gilbert Beillschmidt."
The sun was setting down. They stood there quietly, letting the darkness finally cast the name into an invisible shadow.
"Antonio, come and say goodbye." He stood up, grabbed the other's shoulder.
Antonio quickly shrugged his hand away as if he was grabbed by a horrible disease, and it was. Sorrow grabbed his throat. He didn't think he was even able to talk.
"Come on, you know you have to do it." Francis sighed, "You have to let it go. You can't just leave it to haunt you…"
"Let it haunt." His voice was uneven. "Francis, we let it happened. We just let it fucking happened!" He covered his eyes with his hand. "We didn't do anything when that bastard took him away from us, and now we are doing it again! We did it again and again until… "
He was interrupted by a rough grab of his collar: "What can we do?! What can we possibly do! Be rational, Antonio! There was nothing we can do to keep him alive! You know it! You damn know it! Now say the fucking goodbye so we can leave and go home or hell whatever, did you hear me?!"
A fierce punch aimed at his face. The brunette's fist is large and powerful: "Don't ask me what to be rational, Francis! Nothing is rational! Nothing is making any fucking sense!"
"Enough!" Francis's nose was bleeding. He kicked the man's calf, made the crazy Spain felt with his face down.
Neither of them was getting up. They sat on the ground with their expensive looking suits, as two drunken nuts had just headed out of a bar, only it was three. Antonio finally started staring at the tomb:"I'm sorry, Gil." He cried as he reached out his hand to touch the hardness: "Just so you know, I'm so sorry."