"There is no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were."

It didn't fully sink in at the time. At the time it was just like a casual conversation, except it was anything but casual, it wasn't the kind of conversation you would have with a friend, or a relative you hadn't seen in a while. It was the conversation that involved David Blood telling him that his girlfriend was dead, gone.

Rich went home after, enjoying the sun on his face, it was a beautiful day, the kind of day Grace would use as an excuse to drag him to the beach, she would paddle in the water whilst he watched her, pretending like he wasn't having fun.

She was so carefree, so happy, he would have given anything to be at the beach with her, he would have given anything to see her one last time.

It finally sunk in as he lay in bed, his insides gave a bit of a squirm, or at least it felt like that, and then he felt it, more of an emptiness than a sadness, he wasn't used to the feeling, he didn't welcome it, he didn't want to mourn.

He shouldn't have to mourn, she should be here, she should be wrapped up in his blankets, trying to share them, she would eventually fall asleep and he would just lay there, listening to her breathing, she would stir and softl y snore from time to time, Rich had never watched anyone sleep before, but Grace had always been an exception.

That was when he first realised he loved her, she lay in his bed, sleeping, probably dreaming about something ridiculous, something only his Grace would dream about, he didn't even know he was watching her, he just couldn't look away, she was so tiny, so beautiful, asleep she looked so fragile, not like the Grace he saw when she was around her friends.

The next few days went by the same way, he stayed in his room, smoked his remainder of spliff and listened to her voicemail, that stupid fucking voicemail, why couldn't she have gone into more detail? Why wasn't it longer? Why did it have to be her?

He dreamt of her quite a bit, beautiful dreams, dreams filled with laughter and memories, but Rich always woke up, that was the worst part, facing reality, he had about 20 missed calls on his phone, he just couldn't bring himself to listen to any of them.

It was the strangest feeling, she had been so young, they had been so in love, she shouldn't be gone, it shouldn't have been her, Rich didn't know how to feel, he found himself sobbing more often than not.

She wasn't there anymore, and she never would be.

That was the realisation he had to come to. There was absolutely no other reality, she was gone, and he was still here. He was the one left to miss her, and what they did, she would never be able to tell him to cheer up again, or that he took things too seriously. He would never hear her laugh again, or see her smile. Pictures were pictures, but he could never relive those moments, they were gone. She would never quote some stupid old book she had been reading again,

And she would always been referred to in the past tense, because that was exactly what she was now, a part of the past.

*A/N: This is really short and suckish but I'm bored and the finale of Skins is on later, so what better to do than to write some hardlet dribble drabble. My homework maybe, but this is most fun.