It was like the whole world was against you that week– the delayed flights, the bad weather, almost losing your baggage and a long list of annoying things that had happened. You wondered if it was because he didn’t want to see you, or maybe - just maybe - you didn’t want to see him. Even after all those years from his passing, you were still not over the fact that the world had robbed you of your brother Johnny so soon, and anniversary after anniversary, it never got easier.

You had moved countries, cut off all ties, hoping to start again somewhere new. Yet all your demons had followed you, weighing down on your shoulders like an uncomfortable weight. Some days were better, you were sure you had made the right choice, since nothing was keeping you tied to your hometown anymore - well, almost nothing - and you were able to bury it all. Some other days, though, it all resurfaced, like noticing the silver tissue of an old scar when looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your hometown was nothing like the big, busy city you lived in now: no cramped sidewalks, no crazy drivers on the road…It was quiet, way too quiet for your liking. The noise had helped a lot with drowning out your thoughts, but whenever you were back here, you were left alone with them. That was probably another reason why you dreaded coming back every year. Yet you never missed the anniversary.

For six years, it was always gloomy on that day, it was like the skies knew, and the sun hid in shame, for Johnny had been its brightest ray of light, when he was alive. Without him, sunny summer days always looked a little duller.

Your feet crushed the gravel beneath, fingers twitching as you held onto the flowers in your hand. Then you halted. Someone else was already there. You noticed him in the distance, a large figure - albeit crouched down - covered in a dark coat. But those blond locks were too stark against the grey that engulfed the cemetery. The sight was enough to have your breath stolen from your lungs, but when he moved to the side, you almost tripped while standing perfectly still.

A pink coat, matching rain boots, and the same golden crown of hair as his, clumsily putting together the flowers that adorned Johnny’s grave. You knew you shouldn’t have ignored those omens, and stayed in the safety of your new home. Now, you had to face one of your old demons, in the flesh, not just a ghost of it. Ironic.

You forced your feet to move, and once you were close enough, he finally rose back up, and turned to look at you. The little girl next to him immediately fisted the edge of his coat, seeking shelter. Your face refused to morph into a reassuring expression, your gaze shifting to meet Simon’s eyes, where it stayed locked for a moment that was way longer than necessary.

He was also silent, studying your face, perhaps trying to find a part of you that missed him, but you knew better than to give him that satisfaction, and you could see he was disappointed to find no trace of the old you. But that version of you had died with Johnny, six years ago. Simon was simply collateral damage, because you couldn’t stand waking up to your brother’s best friend's face anymore.

You knew he still resented you for it, and you took all the blame. Quitting everything and everyone cold turkey had seemed the best decision to make at the time. Every day since then, had been a day lived just to convince yourself that you had done the right thing.

“She’s yours?” You finally asked, breaking the silence, but never eye contact. “Yeah,” he hummed. “{{user}}.” You arched a brow, confused. “Yes?” Simon shook his head. “No, her name is {{user}}.” You almost recoiled, your face betraying you, physically unable to hide the sheer disbelief. “You–” He cut you off. “Yes, it was…the only way to keep a piece of you with me, I guess.”