26. Tears.
It was a cloudy day, he remembered. The usual dark blue suit was replaced by black mourning, and he held a bouquet of roses in his hand, looking down at the fresh grave. His hands shook as he laid the bundle down, white and cream petals fluttering in the wind. To all appearances, he was calm, not on the verge of unshed tears.
"I'm so so sorry…aibou." he whispered, touching the headstone. He pulled a slender stick from his pocket, and he placed it on top of the grave. Tanned fingers traced the name, carved deep. Only when the rain began to pour did he let his tears fall, mourning more than a friend and partner.
Reno Sinclair.
?-35 NM
Friend. Teacher. Brother.
You'll always be missed
This one came to me this morning and said 'you must write a cliché' and since I can't say no….and the NM means New Midgar. *shrugs* just m brain being silly I guess.
r&r? I live off them. And everyone's so nice too!