“No,” you said with a small smile on your face that the blond could tell was fake, “I hate goodbyes. They’re pointless, when I’m going to see you again soon. Only if I was actually never going to see you would I say something like that.”
Alfred stared at you, confused for a moment, then said with a toothy grin, “Until we meet again, then, _____!”
“Yeah, I’ll see you!” you said, a wider, truer smile gracing your face and making Alfred swell with happiness.
You hated goodbyes. There was no point to them, and you always made a point of saying so. Alfred loved watching your face light up as he remember and told you that you would meet him again.
He remembered how your face fell on that last day. Alfred couldn’t tell what was on your mind that day, but now he had a pretty good guess as to why you stuttered in your reply, “G-Goodbye, Alfie.”
Alfred had been to that little field full of wildflowers the two of you had always enjoyed today. Sure, the rain was pouring down on him, but he still collected a fistful of the flowers you always marveled at. Their petals were closed, as if they mourned for you too.
He walked along the rows and rows of graves and headstones until he reached your family plot. Fists clenched, Alfred was furious with himself for not catching your arm, for not asking you what was wrong. Alfred cursed himself for not hearing the meaning behind your words.
Alfie sat with his back against your headstone. A flash of lightning crossed the sky, yet he paid it no mind. It was almost like he was back at grade school, sitting back to back with you. His bright blue eyes stared up into the heavens, and watched the raindrops hit against his glasses.
A single tear slipping down his cheek signaled the release of the floodgates and Alfred knocked his head back against the harsh unforgiving stone. He didn’t feel the need to talk to you, you would only have kind words in reply, and that wasn’t what he needed to hear. Your death could have been prevented, if only he hadn’t been so naive. Maybe he could have made you happier if he had confessed his true feelings instead of letting your relationship drift apart.
Maybe if he’d seen the pain you were in he could have been your hero.
Alfred would have done anything to hold you one last time, to see those stunning (e/c) eyes, to run his hand through your silky (h/c) hair, to tell you he was sorry.
So very sorry.
After hours passed and every single tear he thought he possessed had exited his body, Alfie stood stiffly and walked around to the front of your headstone. Eyes red and dirty blond hair disheveled, he rigidly unclenched his fist and placed the flowers on your grave. And he began to walk away.
When he was at the edge of the plot, Alfred turned back. One last tear ran down his face, and he gave you a shaky wave.
Until we meet again, _____.