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Description
You shouldn’t cry for the dead; they’ll be sad in the next world if you do.

Wynn remembered hearing that phrase from her grandmother. It hadn’t come to mind for years, truthfully - not since she’d first heard it at her uncle’s funeral as a small child. Those words had been meant for her cousin, but the little girl hadn’t been able to help overhearing them as she sat in the church pews, too young to fully comprehend the situation. She’d forgotten about them for so long, but now they came back to her with the force of a train, reverberating in her head.

It probably had something to do with the tears that were rolling down her face.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Wynn buried her face against the blanket that she still clutched in her arms. His scent still clung to it, calming her slightly as she curled around it like a lifeline - Rhys. It was the only thing that she had left of him. The scent of wolves and motor oil, left from a night she’d spent curled up against him, listening to the soft thrum of his heart as he slept. It was a sound that she would never hear again, and the thought made her stomach twist. Soon, she wouldn’t even have his scent. It would fade with time, she knew.

Then, she would have nothing left of him.

The tears welled up again, and Wynn wiped at the furiously. Her attempts to hold them back were in vain, however; she’d been trying to stop crying for hours, and she was starting to wonder if she ever would. It didn’t feel like it. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, and the fact that he’d been torn from her life so unexpectedly. Needless to say, the wet trails on her face wouldn’t be drying anytime soon.

Wynn had never been the sort to think about where one went after death. Thoughts on whether or not there was an afterlife rarely crossed her mind; honestly, she’d never had reason to think about it before. Even now, the young woman didn’t really know how she felt about the concept - one thought did stick in her mind though, repeating along with that phrase her grandmother had uttered.

Should he be watching from wherever he was now, Wynn hoped that Rhys would be able to forgive her for her tears.

Description
You shouldn’t cry for the dead; they’ll be sad in the next world if you do.

Wynn remembered hearing that phrase from her grandmother. It hadn’t come to mind for years, truthfully - not since she’d first heard it at her uncle’s funeral as a small child. Those words had been meant for her cousin, but the little girl hadn’t been able to help overhearing them as she sat in the church pews, too young to fully comprehend the situation. She’d forgotten about them for so long, but now they came back to her with the force of a train, reverberating in her head.

It probably had something to do with the tears that were rolling down her face.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Wynn buried her face against the blanket that she still clutched in her arms. His scent still clung to it, calming her slightly as she curled around it like a lifeline - Rhys. It was the only thing that she had left of him. The scent of wolves and motor oil, left from a night she’d spent curled up against him, listening to the soft thrum of his heart as he slept. It was a sound that she would never hear again, and the thought made her stomach twist. Soon, she wouldn’t even have his scent. It would fade with time, she knew.

Then, she would have nothing left of him.

The tears welled up again, and Wynn wiped at the furiously. Her attempts to hold them back were in vain, however; she’d been trying to stop crying for hours, and she was starting to wonder if she ever would. It didn’t feel like it. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, and the fact that he’d been torn from her life so unexpectedly. Needless to say, the wet trails on her face wouldn’t be drying anytime soon.

Wynn had never been the sort to think about where one went after death. Thoughts on whether or not there was an afterlife rarely crossed her mind; honestly, she’d never had reason to think about it before. Even now, the young woman didn’t really know how she felt about the concept - one thought did stick in her mind though, repeating along with that phrase her grandmother had uttered.

Should he be watching from wherever he was now, Wynn hoped that Rhys would be able to forgive her for her tears.