She mounted the hill sullenly. The sunlight blinded her at the summit. She raised her hand to intercept it. She had never felt the allure of sunny days, not even when her lover still lived. She steeled herself as she approached the grave. She refused to allow tears to fill her eyes. She willed herself to believe that this year would be different, this year she would change. This year she would allow herself to truly live again.
She found an old friend facing the tombstone. He acknowledged her with a nod of his head before returning to his stoic post, maintaining watch over the cold gray stone.
She walked next to her friend then kneeled down to lay the green tulips upon the grave of her departed lover. As her knees touched the ground, she felt the long expired bond between her and her lost lover again. The ghost of her lover seemed to have reached into her heart and pleaded with her that she still existed in the corporeal realm. That they could still spend long hours staring at each other over candle lit dinners. Or that they could once again bathe in the moonlit shores of remote prairies and stare into the depths of the void of space. They could tell each other of their dreams that they hoped to maintain forever. Tell each other of the future they would build together. That they could still hold each other. Protect each other from the cold of night and promising each other that they will never be alone.
She forced herself to stand up abruptly, the action quickly ripping the grasp of her deceased lover from her static heart. Unfortunately, she still felt its chilling shadow. She was forced to relive the happier days of the halcyon days that had long since passed, to remember the future that would never come, to recall the promises that would be shattered by unforeseen circumstances.
She was removed from her reverie as her friend stated something. She failed to catch it on the first time around.
"What?"
She responded.
"Those must've been difficult to find. But I guess it was her favorite color."
He repeated, gesturing towards the flowers she had placed on the grave.
She mumbled a vague affirmation. She hadn't really heard the statement, as her dead lover's grasp crept back into her conscience and interrupted any other stream of thought. She recalled the mornings waking up with a warm body at her back. Greeting her to a day full of opportunity. She remembered trading angry words, only to reconcile the next day with teary eyed apologies. She remembered what it was to feel again. To feel only as one who was filled with love could feel.
A hand at her shoulder suddenly awoke her from her trance. She broke her gaze away from the tombstone, turning towards her friend and catching his eyes in hers.
"Elsa, it's okay to move on. She would've wanted you to you know."
He assured her.
"Yeah. It's just hard. I can't really get her out of my head."
She responded.
"I understand, you just have to try. If for no one else, do it for Anna. She wouldn't want you spending the rest of your life brooding over a life you can't get back to"
"I'll try, Kristoff."
She promised. She wasn't sure yet whether this was a promise she could realistically maintain, but she wanted to at least give the appearance that she was making some kind of progress, so she assured her friend nonetheless.
Apparently satisfied with her response, he returned his gaze to the grave of his sister. His friend beside him followed suit.
For the first time since arriving there, she willed herself to read the epitaph engraved on the tombstone.
'Anna Thorolfson – may she find the place where flowers never wither and leaves never fall.'
AN: This story has been sitting on my hard drive for a while in a semifinished state, but I decided to finally complete it today. It is mildly based off of a song by a band called Carissa's Wierd called "Probably Green". Anyways, this is another one-shot because I don't feel like planning a multichapter story, as that would be dificult and require actual thought and effort and stuff. Review if you feel like it.