It seemed like ages, but was only a few minutes, actually, when she finally ran dry for the second time. She didn’t let go, though, just kept clinging tight, shoulders heaving. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But I still miss him. He was quiet, and — an-” She swallowed the cry that tried to escape. “God. Hurts.”
“Shhh shhh shhh. I know it hurts love, I know.” He willed some of his strength to her as he saw her shoulders heaving. “I’m going to be honest, you’re not going to stop missing him, your memories of him are always going to be with you. You can’t let them consume you though love.”
“I know.” She pulled in a deep breath, borrowing his rock-steady strength for a moment, just a moment. Then Summer leaned back, looking up. “I know. It’s not the first time. I’ll survive, it’s just so new and raw.” She pressed up to kiss Victor quickly. “You help. Just … don’t leave me alone, right now?”
Victor gave her a soft smile and gave her a quick kiss in return. “Of course love, I’m not going anywhere.” He ran his hands over her arms, ghosting over her as much as he could. His touch was by no means sexual, he wanted her to feel him everywhere around her, to caress her, to make her feel comforted. “Do you fancy some wine Summer? I brought a bottle.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Summer pulled away, rubbing her hands over her face. “The glasses are in the cupboard next the fridge, top shelf.” She dropped into the couch heavily, still feeling the weight of it.
“He — he was old, Victor darling, he was just old, and he’d been suffering pneumonia for weeks.” Her voice broke, and she dragged in a rasping breath, muffling the harsh sob into his chest. Tears burned down her face, silent after that one choked gasp.
Victor was no stranger to death, they worked side by side as a matter of fact, but he knew just how hard it was when someone he cared for died. It was a horrible feeling. “As corny as this may be, it is true, at least he doesn’t have to deal with all of the pain and suffering anymore. I’m sorry though, that you have to go through this.” He began humming an old tune he had heard several years ago when he had come across a father comforting his child. It was a soft tune that resonated in his chest. Victor rubbed her back with one of his hands and continued to rock her.
It seemed like ages, but was only a few minutes, actually, when she finally ran dry for the second time. She didn’t let go, though, just kept clinging tight, shoulders heaving. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But I still miss him. He was quiet, and — an-” She swallowed the cry that tried to escape. “God. Hurts.”
“Shhh shhh shhh. I know it hurts love, I know.” He willed some of his strength to her as he saw her shoulders heaving. “I’m going to be honest, you’re not going to stop missing him, your memories of him are always going to be with you. You can’t let them consume you though love.”
“I know.” She pulled in a deep breath, borrowing his rock-steady strength for a moment, just a moment. Then Summer leaned back, looking up. “I know. It’s not the first time. I’ll survive, it’s just so new and raw.” She pressed up to kiss Victor quickly. “You help. Just … don’t leave me alone, right now?”
Summer had forgotten Victor’s speed, but the sudden warmth of his hold was more than welcome. She curled her hands into his coat sleeves, once again fighting the tears that had nearly run dry before he arrived. It took a long minute before she could whisper, “My grandfather — my last living grandparent — he died just a few hours ago.”
Victor held her a little tighter. “It’s ok love, it’s ok you can cry.” He closed his eyes; wished he could take away her pain. “I’m sorry Summer, what happened?”
“He — he was old, Victor darling, he was just old, and he’d been suffering pneumonia for weeks.” Her voice broke, and she dragged in a rasping breath, muffling the harsh sob into his chest. Tears burned down her face, silent after that one choked gasp.
Victor was no stranger to death, they worked side by side as a matter of fact, but he knew just how hard it was when someone he cared for died. It was a horrible feeling. “As corny as this may be, it is true, at least he doesn’t have to deal with all of the pain and suffering anymore. I’m sorry though, that you have to go through this.” He began humming an old tune he had heard several years ago when he had come across a father comforting his child. It was a soft tune that resonated in his chest. Victor rubbed her back with one of his hands and continued to rock her.
It seemed like ages, but was only a few minutes, actually, when she finally ran dry for the second time. She didn’t let go, though, just kept clinging tight, shoulders heaving. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But I still miss him. He was quiet, and — an-” She swallowed the cry that tried to escape. “God. Hurts.”
The knock on the door startled her so badly she actually shrieked a little, jumping up from the couch. Taking a deep breath, she called, “It’s open,” and pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow down. She clicked on a lamp, then, and wiped at the tearmarks on her face, trying to think who would be visiting.
Alarmed at her shriek, Victor dashed in through the door and surveyed her. He could hear Summer’s heart beating fast and he took in her tear stained cheeks and he dropped the bottle on the couch. Victor rushed to her and pulled her to him for a hug. “What’s wrong love?”
He held her and rocked with her gently. “What’s wrong love?”
Summer had forgotten Victor’s speed, but the sudden warmth of his hold was more than welcome. She curled her hands into his coat sleeves, once again fighting the tears that had nearly run dry before he arrived. It took a long minute before she could whisper, “My grandfather — my last living grandparent — he died just a few hours ago.”
Victor held her a little tighter. “It’s ok love, it’s ok you can cry.” He closed his eyes; wished he could take away her pain. “I’m sorry Summer, what happened?”
“He — he was old, Victor darling, he was just old, and he’d been suffering pneumonia for weeks.” Her voice broke, and she dragged in a rasping breath, muffling the harsh sob into his chest. Tears burned down her face, silent after that one choked gasp.
Summer hung up the phone and sat there on her couch in the falling dark, hands shaking, too stunned to cry yet. ‘Dead … ’ echoed in her mind, the only thing she could think. Slowly, the awful ache of it penetrated enough to allow other thoughts in. “Victor,” she whispered half-consciously, “where are you? I want you.”
On a whim Victor had decided to drop by on his friend Summer. It had been an interesting week for him to say the least. Some of it good, some of it not so much. He pulled into her driveway, parked his car then got out, a bottle of wine in his hand. Victor jumped the steps then knocked on the door, hoping she was home.
The knock on the door startled her so badly she actually shrieked a little, jumping up from the couch. Taking a deep breath, she called, “It’s open,” and pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow down. She clicked on a lamp, then, and wiped at the tearmarks on her face, trying to think who would be visiting.
Alarmed at her shriek, Victor dashed in through the door and surveyed her. He could hear Summer’s heart beating fast and he took in her tear stained cheeks and he dropped the bottle on the couch. Victor rushed to her and pulled her to him for a hug. “What’s wrong love?”
He held her and rocked with her gently. “What’s wrong love?”
Summer had forgotten Victor’s speed, but the sudden warmth of his hold was more than welcome. She curled her hands into his coat sleeves, once again fighting the tears that had nearly run dry before he arrived. It took a long minute before she could whisper, “My grandfather — my last living grandparent — he died just a few hours ago.”
Summer hung up the phone and sat there on her couch in the falling dark, hands shaking, too stunned to cry yet. ‘Dead … ’ echoed in her mind, the only thing she could think. Slowly, the awful ache of it penetrated enough to allow other thoughts in. “Victor,” she whispered half-consciously, “where are you? I want you.”
On a whim Victor had decided to drop by on his friend Summer. It had been an interesting week for him to say the least. Some of it good, some of it not so much. He pulled into her driveway, parked his car then got out, a bottle of wine in his hand. Victor jumped the steps then knocked on the door, hoping she was home.
The knock on the door startled her so badly she actually shrieked a little, jumping up from the couch. Taking a deep breath, she called, “It’s open,” and pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow down. She clicked on a lamp, then, and wiped at the tearmarks on her face, trying to think who would be visiting.
