Pete sat on the chair the doctor had pulled towards him, shock causing him to grip Patrick’s hat as if his life depended on it. By some miracle, he had stopped crying. The doctor pulled a second chair next to Pete, and quietly sat himself onto it. “Peter….” Pete was slightly shocked at how his name seemed so distant, and looked at the doctor confusedly, having forgotten the doctors own name.  The doctor placed a hand sympathetically onto one of Pete’s shoulders, sighing. “I…I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel right now…..I….I can only say how sorry I am….at how we couldn’t save him. He must have been very close to you….”
“Yes…yes, he…he was…..” Pete whispered into the cap, shocking himself at finding his voice. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing eyeliner down one cheek. The brim of the cap struck his face as he moved his hand away, and he simply stared at it, numb, unable to believe that the one thing he cared about, more then life itself, was gone- forever. Patrick would never smile….never laugh…never sing…..never press those soft, full-bodied lips against Pete’s….ever again. Pete felt a single tear snake a deathly still path down his cheek as he focussed on the one thing that affected him the most. All the time they had spent together….kissing and embracing like there was no tomorrow….And he had never told Patrick how much he loved him…Not once the entire day. All that time….And now it was too late…..

After several long moments, Pete looked at the doctor. “Ca…can I see him…..please?” Pete whispered, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. The doctor simply looked at him, and nodded slowly.  Pete rose carefully, his entire body shaking like a leaf. ‘What is Patrick going to be like?’ he found himself thinking as he was assisted through the double doors. At sight of Patrick’s still body, Pete moaned quietly in anguish and sorrow. He sat himself on the plain wooden seat beside his partner, and simply stared at Patrick’s pale, bloodied face. Patrick’s eyes were closed so softly, Pete was almost convinced the younger man was in a light slumber. Patrick’s lips were tainted purple and he had slightly dark rings around his eyes, which shone in contrast to the pale parts of flesh that showed from beneath the blood. Clumps of scarlet had matted into Patrick’s dark ginger locks and sideburns, and Pete stroked Patrick’s cheek sorrowfully. “I…I love you…So goddamned much…..” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss onto Patrick’s lips, which were as cold as a frozen pond in the middle of winter. Pete opened his eyes reluctantly as he pulled away slowly, and watched as a solitary, glistening tear splashed softly onto Patrick’s upturned cheek.

The following week, all Pete could do was point and mumble as arrangements for Patrick’s funeral were made. He looked over at Patrick’s mother, knowing how she must be feeling. The pain of having someone so close being taken away- moments in time you spent together being lost like tears in the rain…. Pete felt someone softly poke him on the back, and he turned slowly to see Eliza, her young face damp with tears, her eyes blood-shot. “Pete…..” she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, Pete….”
“Eliza…What’s wrong?” Pete asked into her blond hair, gently caressing her shaking body.
“I…I knocked….The picture….The one of you and Patrick together……I’m so sorry….” Pete’s eyes widened, filling with tears. He knew exactly which photo she was on about. Before he could ask how it had happened, Patrick’s mother had tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“Pete….” She asked, indicating for Eliza to go away. Pete muttered about how everything was going to be alright as the young woman walked away, her face buried in her hands, and then looked back at Patrick’s mother.
“Everything’s organised….You going to be O.k.?” she asked, placing a comforting hand onto Pete’s shoulder.
“Yeah....” Pete answered, bowing his head.
“It’s in 3 days……I know how much my son meant to you……..”