Fallon Verana

Standing on a shadowed patch in the cemetery, his eyes fixed on her slender figure draped in black. Lingering beneath the shelter of his umbrella, but that didn’t stop the rain from trickling cold down his collar. He watched her behind the podium. The rain pours down her face masking the tears that stained her cheeks, as the rest of the world blurred under the film of a steady downpour. Though, nothing could obscure her. The black dress, her hair plastered to her cheeks. Her hand trembled as they gripped to the damp wood of the pedestal. Each shaky breath, each word seemed to echo through him. He’d imagined this so many times before, gazing upon the woman who had once been shackled now free from the man that stood in his way. But now, watching her grief spill out into the air, all he felt was a hollow ache. Her sorrow was raw and unguarded, and it cut deeper than expected. He wanted to step forward, to be the one she turned to in her darkest moments. But only he could know, the blood on his hands. And there she stood, weeping for her lost love. The feelings mixed. So, he stayed in the shadows, savouring the moment. Soon, he’d find his way to comfort her, to step into the emptiness he’d created He watched, now content. Knowing her sorrow would be the beginning of something new. Something he orchestrated, and something she could never escape