The funeral went faster than expected, or maybe it seemed that way because I didn't want to say a final goodbye to the only person that understood me. The only person that truly loved me for what I am. What I was.
A vast crowd of people turned up to pay their respects and to say their goodbyes; a large pile of flowers and heartfelt messages sat beside the grave as a reminder of how dearly the Senator's only son would be missed. All those who attended the funeral were now gathered around the small hole in the ground in which the coffin lay, containing the body of a young adult, barely eighteen, who had died trying to save his best friend from a deliberate fire in the art hall of the now-shutdown Dalton Academy for Boys.
Looking around, I spotted Evan and Ethan standing over by one of the trees surrounding the grave. Both sets of eyes were rimmed red and swollen from hours of mourning the loss of their former close friend whom they had named 'The Knave', and they stood stiffly with their hands clutched in front of them until Ethan gave up the 'brave' act and turned his head into Evan's shoulder, letting out a low sob as his twin wrapped his arms around him. Kurt was there too, along with Blaine and the rest of the Windsor boys; they all stood mourning silently for the Stuart boy that had previously been a house rival. Derek stood nearby in black suit, not bothering to mask his pain. Tears of sorrow ran down the sides of his face as he attempted to stop his hands from shaking, and his breaths came out in sharp gasps. I frowned at his pain and started forward to comfort him but stopped in my tracks when I heard a soft whimper from behind me. I turned to find the source of the noise and froze. In that moment, no one else mattered. Not my mother standing at the head of the grave, with an endless flow of tears falling down her face, ruining her mascara and usually flawless make up. Especially not my father who stood a step behind her with his hand on her shoulder, his face grim. No, the only person who mattered was hunched over my graves on his knees, uncontrollably sobbing. The person who had loved me for three whole years, yet I had been oblivious. My Jules.