One Shots | Formula 1

LH☁︎

"I will always be here for you."

TW: mentioning of death/grief.

Sitting on the cracked concrete steps outside the funeral home, I couldn't help but feel like my life was the punchline to some cosmic joke. Here I was, freshly unemployed thanks to the company I worked for going belly up, and now I found myself at a funeral home of all places. Life had a funny way of throwing curveballs, and lately, it seemed like I was striking out more often than not.

I shifted uncomfortably on the hard step, trying to ignore the mournful wails drifting through the open doors behind me. It wasn't my first time at this funeral home, but it certainly wasn't any easier. Loss had become a familiar companion in my life lately, one I never invited but couldn't seem to shake.

Moving in with my older brother Pietro had been a saving grace amidst the chaos. We'd always been close, practically inseparable since we were kids. I couldn't count the number of times we'd stayed up late watching cheesy rom-coms, laughing until tears streamed down our faces. But now, those memories felt like distant echoes of happier times.

Pietro had always been my rock, my constant in a world that felt increasingly unstable. He was there when I decided to leave home at 18 to accomplish my dreams, when I met who I thought was the love of my life, and when I got my heart broken in a million pieces. So when I stumbled upon the truth he'd been hiding from me it felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath my feet. Cancer, he had cancer. How could he keep something like that from me, his own sister? The hurt cut deep, slicing through the bond we'd spent our lives building.

As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, memories flooded my mind like a tidal wave. I remembered the summer days spent riding bikes through the neighborhood, racing each other to the nearest ice cream truck. I remembered the late-night conversations whispered under blankets, secrets shared in the safety of our shared bedroom.

But amidst the laughter and the love, there had always been an unspoken understanding between us. We were a team, Pietro and I, facing the world together no matter what came our way. Or so I'd thought.

Tears stung my eyes as I replayed the moment I discovered Pietro's illness, the shock still raw even now. How could he face something like cancer alone, without me by his side? Didn't he know that I would move mountains to help him through it?

But then again, maybe that was the problem. Maybe Pietro was trying to shield me from the pain, to spare me the heartache of watching him suffer. But in doing so, he'd only pushed me further away, leaving me to navigate this mess on my own.

The weight of grief hung heavy around my shoulders as I sat outside the funeral home, the warmth of the sun doing little to thaw the icy numbness that had settled in my heart. It had only been two days since Pietro's passing, but it felt like an eternity since I'd heard his laugh or felt the reassuring squeeze of his hand.

The days leading up to his death had been a blur of hospital visits and whispered conversations with doctors, each update more grim than the last. Pietro's illness had been worse than we ever could have imagined, a relentless force that no amount of hope or determination could overcome. And now, he was gone, leaving behind a gaping hole in my life that I didn't know how to fill.

I glanced up at the clear blue sky, trying to find solace in its vast expanse. But instead of comfort, all I felt was a profound sense of loneliness. Pietro and I had never been close to our parents, and our extended family might as well have been strangers for all the connection we had with them. So when I reached out to them with the news of Pietro's passing, the response was as hollow as the void in my chest.