Feathers and Fires

Till death do us part [Marco/Ace]

Summary:
When we lose those we hold dear, and pain is all we feel. Then let us be blessed with memories of those warmer days when all was well

Tags:
Angst, death, character death, hurt, grief, funeral, just a whole lot of pain in general (I'm sorry)

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What started as a bright and sunny day, filled with joy and everything else which nature could offer, turned into a grim mess of pain and suffering. The heavens reflected the bleeding ache in people's hearts as it poured down, filling the streets with puddles ever growing, and soaking those unsuspecting from head to toe. Its cry in mourning struck everything within its reach; only shielded by the cars and homes which offered protection from the bitter rain.

And amidst the endless monsoon stood a vast sea of black to offer its protection; keeping those underneath dripping umbrellas dry. The rain was unable to touch their bodies yet their faces reflected the stormy weather from outside their umbrellas. Eyes drenched in tears peered painstakingly towards a single spot in the dirt floor as faces pulled in a grimace or remained void of any emotion—empty on the inside and out.

They watched as a massive box was lowered into the ground, carefully so by men wearing similar black clothing as the ones observed—dry underneath their umbrellas. The box, a coffin, soon lay at the bottom of the pit, staring pitifully up at the thundering sky as if asking for a last time to be given a second chance.

Yet its prayers remained unheard as roses fell on top, raining down one by one like the drops that fell from the sky.

The mass of grey and black turned and walked away, their murmurs drowned in the downpour that tapped angrily on a single umbrella. An all saying prompt for the last person to move away; to leave the grave and carry on. What happened has happened and life moves on. A horrible thing to say to someone who lost everything.

/-/-/-/

"You're not gonna believe what just happened." Shrieked a man as he ran inside a neatly decorated home.

The walls were painted in soft white and occasionally interrupted by brighter colored walls—to add in a bit of depth and color in the otherwise sterile home, was what they were told. In contrast to the walls, the floors were warm brown and stretched over the entirety of the home, only shying away from the grey tiles that lay in their kitchen. While the house wasn't big per se, the design made up for any lack of unused space.

A trail of black followed after the man, his footprints staining the wood along with the fluffy white rug that decorated the living room and sufficed as a personal warmer for cold feet in the winter.

"I can't believe it! It actually worked!" Continued the boisterous voice, "You should've been there, too, Marco." The man proceeded to gush about a certain warehouse explosion which happened only a few blocks from where they lived, confirming the other home occupant's suspicion on who would have caused such a disturbance earlier on the day.

"The way the fire swallowed that building was amazing! Only a few big ones were needed to let the entire thing collapse!" An endless stream of enthusiasm left the man, gushing about the fire and its destruction.

Marco found himself watching in awe, forgetting about the good book he was invested in. The man continued to gush, sharing more insights about the explosion that he probably shouldn't voice, as well as starting to undress in the bedroom. Streaks of black marred his arms and Marco watched with interest where the man's natural sun-kissed skin was hidden from the eye and enveloped in ashen streaks.