A/N This is a very short prologue of a story I have in mind. First and most important of all, English is not my mother tongue and this is the first time I ever try to write in English (so it IS a try and whatever the response and feedback will be, I will continue or not). If you like it and I decide to continue it will be a huge challenge for me, but I still want to try it.
I do not have a beta so please don't be too cruel to me and forgive the mistakes I made.
This is also the first M/M story I ever wrote. :)
It was a gloomy day, the clouds hang heavy and grey in a dark and depressing sky. It was a day that would never see nor feel the warm rays of the beautiful sun. This was a day right for a bad mood, right for bad things and just right for a funeral.
It would rain in no time, he could smell it in the misty air. His hands rested in the pockets of his black Armani suit pants while he felt a chill rise inside of him. He felt wrong at this depressing place and yet he couldn't resist being here. He usually would avoid displeasing situations like this and yet… Yet after all this years there still was hope inside his otherwise empty heart.
He wore one of his favorite suits, it was an important occasion and he wanted to show respect. He felt the eyes of black dressed people that stood in the last row of a semicircle around an open grave as he approached the large group. He was late but he knew most of the people just wondered who he was and some simply admired his handsome appearance.
It was always like that wherever he went. He was handsome after all and a man that emanated a strong and confident aura, a man that hadn't a problem getting what or who he wanted. Male or female, it didn't matter. They all melted under his chocolate brown gaze. But the one he wanted, the one that would have filled his cold heart, the one that still held his never ending love hadn't fallen under his spell, had left him years ago without a single word. Such a cruel being. And yet here he was, standing in the middle of strange people at a funeral of a person he barely knew.
The priest was talking comforting, praising words but he wasn't listening, his mind was racing, his eyes were searching. This was his last chance to find him, to reach for him, to hold him and to never let go again.
He was searching for a shock of brown hair, a strong soothing voice, these unique most beautiful blue eyes. He had to be here, hadn't he? After all, this was the funeral of his father Amyntor.