“Once, weeks ago, we were talking about death.
He said that he’d hate catholic-style funerals in a church. A church to a god
he didn’t believe in, a mass said by a man worshipping that god.”

Sienna told Braeden.

“How would he like his funeral? Did he say?”

Braeden asked.

“Well, that same conversation, weeks ago, he
said that if he had the choice he’d be cremated. But he said he didn’t know
where he’d like the ashes to be scattered. I’d keep them if I had a choice. In
a vase or an urn.”

Sienna told Braeden.

“We should do that.”

Braeden agreed.

“Did you know about his tattoo? The one of my

Sienna asked.

“Yeah, I noticed it a week or two ago. I asked
him about it. He said that he loved you, that even if he could never have you,
he had your name imprinted on him forever.”

Braeden told her.

“I never said anything because I wasn’t sure if
he’d let me tell you about it.”

Braeden added.

“I’m getting his name tattooed on me.”

Sienna said in a barely audible voice.

Braeden managed a small smile.

“The day he took you to get your burning cross
done, it was so funny how you came back saying how it was excruciatingly
painful, and you’d never get another tattoo ever again. And he was just
laughing at you, saying you can’t stop at one tattoo!”

He reminisced.

“He was right. He was right about a lot of

Sienna murmured.

So they went about the funeral preparations. It
was just the two of them, as really they didn’t have many friends. Sienna often
wondered if, in the unlikely situation that her parents got hold of a
newspaper, how would they feel when they saw headlines like ‘boyfriend of
best-selling author Sienna Blacklust killed by jealous friend.’

They’d probably be deeply ashamed of her.

The End

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