This could be Will or Jem. If its Jem, pretend he died of the demon drug. If it's Will, he died of old age and Jem is a Silent Brother.\
Disclaimer: I do not own the Infernal Devices Cassandra Clare does.
"It's that time again." She talks to the stone. "I guess I should have been prepared." She lets out a watery chuckle. "Should have brought tissues."
"It's been years. Twenty to be exact. I've been traveling with Magnus, we aren't allowed in Peru anymore. Don't ask, it's a long story including llamas and margaritas."
The grave is empty. He had been a Shadowhunter, so his ashes were at the Silent City. But it was what the grave stone represented.
"Maybe I should have brought him. You know, your Parabatai. He would have made this easier. But then I thought, just once, I'd like you for myself. Selfish, I know. But right now, I don't want to share you."
Her brown hair is escaping the bun she had put it up in. Stray curls frame her face and to anyone, it looks like a twenty something girl paying her respects. To a father, a brother, mother, sister or friend.
In reality, she's more than ninety and mourning her husband. And she'll live even longer, carrying the grief for many years.
"The kids are all grown. I watched James' son come into this world. I couldn't stay though, I can't watch my grandson die. I watched you die, and it was quite possibly the worst moment of my life."
"This might sound cliche, but every day you're gone, I think of you. There hasn't been a day your name doesn't run through my mind. Your eyes, your voice. I remember that day we kissed so clearly. As if it was yesterday." Her eyes were misting and her voice was getting softer, as if she was reciting a poem.
"I can't forget that time we..." She speaks of moments years ago.
"I said it's time, because it's our anniversary today. Cheers." She laughs darkly later. "I brought your favourite." From her bag, she pulls out a bottle of wine and takes a swig, very unlike herself. But here, she isn't herself. She's hollow. A shell of the girl who laughed carelessly and smiled easily.
"I remember how everyone said you wouldn't live past nineteen. But no, you lived longer. There was some odd kind of rope that binded us. But that rope's been cut, severed, snapped." Her voice is a mere hush now.
"You promised me you wouldn't leave me." She is aware of how childish it sounds, everyone has to leave this world. Everyone mortal.
"Being immortal isn't a blessing." She takes another drink from the wine and laughs again, coldly. "I hear children talk about how they'd love to live forever. Never die. If only they knew what they were talking about."
"It's a curse. A god damn curse." The words feel odd in her mouth. She was always taught how to speak like a lady, but she didn't really care anymore. No one was here to judge except the dead.
"Dying is natural. Never dying, isn't."
"I still see your eyes you know. Staring at me, into me. You could always see what I was thinking and feeling." And as the eyes in question flash in front of her, she breaks down. The grief crashes over like a wave and sobs wrack her body. They get louder and louder, until people around her don't know whether to comfort her, or leave her be. So they leave her, and she feels like clawing at the grass in despair. But instead, she holds her head with her hands, as if it will explode. She can't even look at the grave now, the words on it would only mock her. The tears slip down her face and she tries to control her emotions. Finally the sobs are gone and she hiccups.
A last tear drops onto the ground and it starts to rain. "It always rains in London." She said off handedly, not wanting to leave despite the downpour.
The rain falls in big drops, her hair was starting to grow heavy, until she has to take it out of the ruined bun and it swayed like a curtain in front of her face.
"It wouldn't hurt to sleep with you again. Just sleep." So she curls up in front of the slab of stone and closes her eyes. The world disappears as dreams overtake her.
"Tessa. Tessa!" A hand jostles her out of her sleep. The boy evaporating before her eyes. Another one stands in his place in real life and he looks angry.
"By the Angel, I've been looking for you since yesterday! It rained so much, it was cold, you could have d-"
No. She won't ever die. Not from the cold. Not from the wet. Not from a broken heart.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Tessa cries and buries her face in his chest. The man's anger dissolving quickly.
"Sh. Don't ever apologize for this. I know what day it was yesterday."
"I'm sorry I didn't take you with me." She ignores him and apologizes anyways.
"It's your anniversary. Not mine." He tries to make the situation less dark, and fails miserably.
Sp instead, he holds her tightly for a while.
Tessa sniffled and then got to her feet. Picking up the bag and leaving the bottle of wine, she took his hand and they walked away slowly.
Invisible, a ghost with a broken look looks on.
I know. Tessa is OC. I'm sorry.
But please review?