Rated T because I'm paranoid. I don't know.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. If I did, the book would just be me and Jem lying in bed all day.
The rain drops hit Tessa's skin like shards of broken glass. She was cold and shivering, but she did not care. Tessa would rather die from a horrible cold than deal with grief heavier than the world.
She stared at her bare feet, pillowed by the thick grass and soft mud. It's a good thing she came here barefooted, or her shoes would've been ruined by the rain. Tessa's heart ached at the sight of her dress painted with mud, taking away the real beauty of the fabric. She chuckled to herself. Since when did she care about shoes and dresses?
It was because of him. He loved this dress on her. He said the blue fabric made her gray eyes shine like the moon. Like the moon that glows all over the dark world when the sun was found nowhere. Like the moon that gives everyone a sense of security, even with the knowledge that danger lurks somewhere in this horrible world.
Tessa sniffed and tears streamed down, mixing with rainwater washing her face.
Tessa missed him terribly. So terribly, that she felt the urge to throw up every minute of every day.
She sunk to the ground and clawed at the mud. She screamed until her throat felt sore and dry. She hated this feeling. She hated the feeling of loss. It was like she just woke up one day, her heart missing and leaving a dark hole in her chest. She was acting childish, more than her children. What kind of mother is she?
If anyone saw her, she wouldn't care. She wouldn't care even with her mud-caked skin, or her soaked hair covering her face like a thick veil. She sobbed and looked up, tears and rain blurring her vision.
The smooth stone 's existence in front of her was like a dagger to her empty chest. Water dripped down the edges, as if it was crying with her. Tessa sat up on her legs and placed her shaking palms on the stone.
She closed her eyes and smiled. Another set of tears traveled down her face. She had a splitting headache from too much crying. But it's okay, she told herself. Any pain is more bearable than the numb feeling inside her.
Tessa stood up and ran her hands over the gold lettering on the stone. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the memories that the damned lettering gave her. Memories that made her cry herself to sleep. Memories that tortured her fragile soul, repeating over and over in her head. Delightful or heartbreaking memories, it doesn't matter. Everything brought pain.
Tessa walked away, the horrible feel of the lettering fresh on her fingertips. She wiped her hands on her drenched clothes, despite knowing that the action would do nothing. The horrible feeling would stay. The feeling of his name imprinted not only on her fingertips, but on her heart, on her whole being. The name on that stone she would willingly replace.
William Herondale.