It was certainly hard having to bury someone; a partner, friend, a lover.

Charles didn't want to be the one to do it, but it was what Arthur would've wanted.

His large hands pat the dirt carefully, as to not to disturb the orange flowers that grow above the body below. He sighs right after.

"He was a good man." Charles murmured quietly.

He was unable to take his eyes off the hand-crafted wooden grave; Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness carved into it.