There’s not much sound in cemetery, only the gentle breeze making the blossoms on the trees chatter lowly and ruffling his hair as he kneels at your grave, your name etched into the slightly tarnished stone, moss and the occasional vine snaked around it in a protective embrace.

The only other sound is the soft sniffles and cries of your boyfriend, cradling a bouquet of white roses. Felix’s grey eyes just bore into the stone with both dried and fresh tears glistening on his freckled cheeks, making them almost glow in the seemingly never-ending sunset.

But he shakes his head, smiling just for you as he brings out a small cake, the candle lit and he hovers his hand around it so it doesn’t go out. You just smile back at him, proud of how he's holding himself together better, he can't see you though nor hear you- you're a ghost.

“Happy anniversary, little dove.”