"And so here we lay our beloved daughter, sister, and friend..."
Unable to bear the dripping tragedy of the minister's words any longer, Horatio stepped quietly away from the pointa della obscura he had situated himself in not twenty minutes earlier. Lost in thought, he wandered aimlessly for a time, before coming upon Eric, equally rhapsodous. Stepping up aside his friend, Horatio waited a long moment, testing the air, before heaving a sigh.
"This sucks," Eric grumbled, wiping a straying tear from his chin. Horatio pursed his lips, looking at the ground as the younger man continued. "You know? She was too good for this job anyway."
"That's probably so," Horatio agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to quell the errant feelings of remorse and loss welling in his throat. "She was too good for a lot of things."
"Not for you," Eric said, turning his head to look at Horatio. "She was perfect for you." Though it was guised in emotion, Horatio heard the bitterness piercing through Eric's voice. Unwilling to argue, Horatio breathed out slowly as he twisted his pockets between his fingers. "You were lucky to have her while you did."
"I never had her, Eric. She never let anyone have her."
"Tell me about it."
The two mean stood in silence for a long moment before padding back to the crowd, finally beginning to disperse. Forcing a small smile, Horatio extended his hand to a distinguished older gentleman, before being enveloped in a hug.
"Mr. Duquesne," Horatio choked against the man's neck, "I'm so sorry for your loss."