aprimreaper whispered:

"It wasn't often, really, that Cecelia wore her hat. A beautiful thing of black, flowered and veiled, sitting perfectly atop her head, looking all the darker for her pale hair. She hated it and how perfect she looked, from her accessories to her shoes. Sighing deeply, she stepped out of the lavatory and onto the lawn, detesting every step, the silence about the graves, the whole of the company attending. A reaper's funeral was rare, moreso two at once. She held Will's hand as she sat, wretched."

posted on 25.02.2014 at 4:44 + 1 note + reblog