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Bruno sat on the rock next to the sea, staring at the setting sun. The ocean breeze brushed his hair from his face. Warm tears fell from his eyes, he barely noticed them. He ran his thumb across the name etched in the stone, "Leone Abbacchio, 1980-2001". Bouquets of dried dahlias littered the rock and sand around it, Abbacchio's favorite flowers. Bruno brought them every time he visited Abbacchio's grave, which was frequent. He remembers putting a dahlia in Leone's soft lavender hair. It had been five years, since that day, he knew Abbacchio would secretly be proud of where the rest of the gang was right now. It didn't get easier. Sometimes he would expect Abbacchio to be in bed next to him, but those memories were long gone. He knows coming back to this little rock by the sea wasn't good for him but he just needed to be near him. This felt like the closest he could get to Abbacchio. He moved his gaze from the setting sun to the flowers in his hand, the stems snapped from his grip. He sniffled and wiped the tears from his face before setting the flowers on top of Abbacchio's name. The only times he cried since that day were because of him. Almost every night, sometimes he was too mentally exhausted to cry and his heart just ached, a quiet pulse of pain. He knelt down and kissed the stone where a purple lipstick mark had been painted on by Fugo.
"I'll visit again soon, Leone."