Here's Sanich Iyonni's request for some good old-fashioned angst. Max or Mariam visiting the other's grave after one has died from an incurable disease was the request.
The title's a pun. I thought you might need a little nugget of humor to go with your angst-burger.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.
Enjoy!
Grave Visit
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone, there was barely a cloud in sight, and a breeze gently wafted around every now and again. Max hated it. He hated how everything and everybody could go on, blissfully ignorant to his suffering or choosing to be as cheery as possible to mock it.
Max knelt down and placed Mariam's wedding bouquet – peace lilies surrounded by forget-me-nots – by her gravestone. She'd never gotten to carry it down the aisle.
"We can't be married on Friday the thirteenth, Maxie. That's bad luck and we need all the good luck we can get right now. How about a week later – the twentieth?"
How was he to know that the twentieth would be too late? How could anyone have known?
Out of his pocket he pulled a small, black, velvet box. He opened it and ran his finger over the intricately carved wedding band that had never known the warmth of her hand. He snapped the case shut and dug a hole in the freshly overturned soil. He wrapped the encased ring in a swatch of fabric – the headband she'd bandaged his arm with all those years ago – and tied it tight. He lowered the package into the ground and replaced the dirt. There was now an unremarkable lump over the place where her heart lay, forever still, six feet under.
He bowed his head and cried the tears that never stopped trying to worm their way down his cheeks. Max wanted to die. He couldn't live without Mariam; he'd established that many times prior to this. How could he have known that she would be gone before they got married? The doctor's had given her six months to live and, out of those, she'd gotten two. It wasn't fair.
He choked out sobs just like he had the day she left him forever. Holding his hand, her engagement ring, that she refused to take off, had sparkled in the cruel hospital light. He flung himself over her tombstone and cried into the black marble.
All he could do now was hope that, when he died, he'd see her walking towards him in a silky white dress, bathed in heavenly light, and carrying that forget-me-not bouquet. And that time, death wouldn't do them apart.
A/N: I hope I did the request justice. I personally liked how this turned out, but I don't know if you'll think the same.
Review?