"You didn't come to the funeral, why?"  

"I- I don't know."  

"Yeah, you do. Come on, love... tell me," He chuckled softly. 

"I didn't want to."  

"Lies. Didn't you promise not to lie to me?" He whispered. 

"Stop. Just- stop," she breathed. 

"Why? Come on, just tell me. Why didn't you go?"  

"…." 

"Tell me. Please, love? Just talk to me, you know I deserve an answer. Just tell-" 

"Because I couldn't! Okay? I couldn't. I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe." She sniffled, "I just couldn't."  

"There's more to it though, isn't there?"  

"I don't know what you mean," she sneered.  

"Oh, but you do. You do know what I mean."  

"I'm not talking about this anymore." 

He huffed, "You're no fun. You used to always talk about the deep stuff." 

"Shut up."  

"There we go, there's the fire." 

"You're annoying." 

"Yeah, but you love it."  

"…. Yeah. I do."  

"So, care to tell me why you're just... laying on the wet grass in the middle of the night, here of all places?" 

"You're telling me you don't know?" 

"Of course, I know. I just want to keep talking to you." 

"You like the sound of my voice that much?"  

"You know I do, darling."  

She barked a laugh, "Whatever. Well, if you want me to say it so bad... I'm just watching the stars." 

"You love the stars, don't you?"  

"You know I do," she muttered.  

"Which constellation are you looking at now? The Little Dipper?" 

"No... I'm not sure if it's an actual constellation. Don't you remember? You and I found it and named it. The Lord of the North, based on our favorite book."  

"Oh yeah, I remember now."  

"…. What are you doing here?"  

"I like how you can see the stars so clearly from this hill. They're so much brighter than in the city." 

"Arden, what are you doing here?"  

"You really should go inside soon, though. It's getting cold, I don't want you to get sick. You know how upset you get when you’re sick."  

"You're not going to tell me?"  

"Oh my god, is that the Milky Way?" 

"Arden... stop. Please." 

"What do you mean?"  

"Just go away. Please. I can't- you shouldn't be here."  

"…. I know I shouldn't."  

"Then leave, please," her voice broke.  

"Raine... I had to see you again. At least once."  

"You shouldn't have. You shouldn't be here." 

"That's the thing... I'm not really here, am I?"  

"What?" She breathed. 

"You know what I'm saying, Raine. I can't be here."  

"Oh, Arden..." She murmured. 

"You have to let me go, Raine."  

"I can't. Please... don't make me."  

"Raine, why didn't you go to my funeral?"  

"Don't... stop." 

"Tell me." 

"Please..." She started to cry. 

"Tell me, Raine." 

"I can't-" she sobbed. 

"Tell me."  

"Please," she begged. "Don't make me-" 

"Tell me."  

"I couldn't go because I couldn't accept the fact that you were dead," she blurted. "You are dead. I couldn’t go because I couldn't stand the thought of seeing you like that, in the casket. Pale and still and dead. I couldn't go because I was suffocated by the guilt that I survived, and you didn't. I still am; I still feel incredibly guilty. You shouldn't have pushed me out of the way. You should have let me get hit. That bullet was meant for me, not for you. It would have hit me in the damn shoulder, and I would have lived but you pushed me, and you got hit instead and now you're dead. 

"You are dead. And I hate you. I hate you for jumping in front of me. I hate you; I hate you; I hate you," she cried. "But more than that, I miss you. I miss you and I love- loved- you. I loved you more than anything, and now you're gone, and you took the best part of me with you, and I cannot forgive you, because you left me. You left me here alone."  

Silence. 

"...Arden?" 

Silence.  

"Of course, now you're gone." She laughed bitterly, "I miss you. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't go to the funeral, and I'm sorry that a part of me hates you for leaving me," she admitted to the void, to the stone grave in front of her. "I love you." 

She could have sworn the wind whispered it back.