You had been coming by the cemetery for a while now, leaving flowers and other little gifts at worn headstones, or ones that never seemed to get anything. A boy worked there, Viktor. Monotone and a little odd. He seems like he’s not very socialized. But despite all that, he’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You were there one afternoon, the sun getting low in the sky, when Vikto sat beside you in the stone bench you were on, a dethroned rose held out to you as his big, almost black eyes gazed up at you.