Jean ran a few fingers of his free hand through his hair, making sure it was presentable. He didn't bother looking in the mirror, he knew that it wouldn't make much of a difference in the end. It wasn't like he was fancy, he was wearing a band tank top and jeans. His hair would be fine, his boyfriend wouldn't care.
Jean picked up the flowers he had collected, with the little birthday card and balloon he had with them, and walked out the door, one hand stuffed in his pocket, remembering that he left his phone in his room. Oh well. His boyfriend wouldn't mind him dropping in unannounced. Especially on his birthday.
The teenager walked down the road, shooting glares at everyone who gave him strange looks. He knew he must've looked awkward, an angry punk teenager with flowers and a balloon. Jean shrugged, slumping and trying to look intimidating. He knew his boyfriend would laugh at him for that, but he didn't mind. His laugh was Jean's favorite noise.
As he approached where his boyfriend was, he gave a small smile, opening the gate and walking up to his boyfriend.
"Hey," he muttered.
Tearing up slightly, Jean sat down and laid the flowers, card, and balloon on the grave.
"Happy birthday, Marco."