rain hailed down on your back incessantly, claiming each inch of your skin and sucking whatever warmth you had in you out. your eyes, too, generously poured down thick, salty tears, joining the rain in a desperate dance that watered the grass atop his grave. its been three weeks, and you still could not let go of your grief — your brothers death left you shattered beyond mending; your last remaining family member, gone, just like that.

suddenly, the rain ceased its senseless assault on you — or did it? it was just an umbrella, shielding you from the skys downpour. "youll get sick," a smooth voice spoke, and looking up, you could see sunday, his hand extended with an umbrella above your head, even if it meant he was now the one bearing the brunt of mother natures grief.

you stood up, your feet leaving indents in the slippery mud beneath you. "sunday… how did you know i was here?" you questioned curiously, as if it werent so painfully obvious.

"where else would you be?" he responded simply, his voice betraying a hint of strain and exasperation. "stop crying so much… god wont have mercy on you just because you wept over a grave. the world wont save you."

he took your hand in his and pulled you along with him, his long legs moving in confident, brisk strides. even though he never minced his words, it was only when he held your hand and guided you like this, when his back was the only thing you could see, that you could feel safe.