The funeral had ended hours ago, but you were still there. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there, staring at the fresh mound of earth, but your legs felt numb.

Then, footsteps.

“I figured you’d still be here.”

Damiano’s voice broke through the silence. You didn’t turn to face him, not yet. Maybe you were afraid that if you did, the grief would spill over, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

A moment passed before you felt his presence beside you. He didn’t say anything right away, just stood there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

“You don’t have to talk,” he murmured. “But you also don’t have to do this alone.”

Finally, your voice came, small and hoarse. “It doesn’t feel real.”

His gaze softened. “I know.”

Slowly, carefully, he reached out, hesitating for just a second before draping his arm around your shoulders. The warmth of him made something in you crack. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, but it was no use. The tears came anyway, silent and unstoppable.

"Shh.. I know, I know..." He whispered in your ear, allowing you to just be