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Summary
The casket was pristine white with red roses pinned on the cap panel. It’s when he grips the sides of the podium did he notice that he was deathly pale. Still, his skin could not compare to the ivory white of Paul’s. His thick lashes rest low on his cheeks, eyelids obscuring glassy hazel orbs that long lost their alluring shine. Though his cheeks and hands were tinted with rouge to give the impression that he was only sleeping, John knew damn well he wasn’t. It was the calmness of death.
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John struggles with the aftermath of Paul's death and doesn't know how to cope. He always struggled with being honest to others, even to himself. He has a heart to heart with a man who lay there peacefully, perfectly still.