His innocent weakness
I held a white rose in my hand so tightly that the throns pierced my palm.
when the priest asked if anyone wanted to say something, I stepped forward.
Noelle didn't.
I said what I could.
she said nothing.
That night, I knocked on her door. it was slightly open. I saw her at the window, looking out into the garden where Mom used to plant sunflowers.
"I miss her," I whispered.
"Noelle?"
"I'm training tomorrow," she said. Her tone was flat. Mechanical.
I took a step back.
"she's dead, Nico. Get over it."
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