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Funeral

A few days later, Aira sat down in the second row as she watched her mother present her eulogy. She felt drained and cried out. In the three days since her grandmother died, Aira had been doing very little.

Other than painting or staring at the painting, she spent half the time crying and the other half trying to suppress her tears. Her family was grieving and each time she found her mother sitting in a corner crying by herself, she felt her heart break a little more as she went to try to comfort her.

She was tired. So tired that she felt like she was going to sit anywhere and fall asleep as soon as the funeral was over.

She felt a hand sneak around her waist and pull her sideways against a muscular chest. Grateful for the support, she didn’t tell Vincent anything. She didn’t need to.

He had been hovering over her since that day but she couldn’t say that his presence bothered her. Sometimes she barely noticed his presence but most of the time, he would always be in the right place at
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