Work Text:
For once in her life, Bernice prayed. She prayed for it not to be true kneeling in the aisle of the church for once. At first, finding out Pauline had died she pushed it off as a prank but now her knees lay on the cold stone as the coloured windows lay lights upon her. As she bowed her head she whispered pleadings for this all to be a lie. Pauline so full of life and joy; smothered with a pillow. It was Mickey, her husband, who came to the church to tell her. He knew they were close, of course, but he didn't understand Bernice's feelings for her truly.
She paused her praying taking a deep breath. In her pocket was a pen, one of Pauline's favourites. She pulled it out and stared; just thinking. She could've told her, she could've kissed her. Their lips pressing together, mixing their lipsticks to create a colour of their own. That's all she wanted and she could've. But that time passed, it was over now. She could've done so many things. She could've been hers. A warm teardrop rolled down her face.
She clutched the pen to her chest like a real nun would with her rosary. She didn't believe in God, she was only in the job to belittle others. But for now, she wanted to believe. For this all to be a bad dream. She wanted Pauline, more than anything now. Bernice took a deep breath as she stood up. She quickly looked around to make sure no one was in the church, though she has plastered a sign on the door of the church saying it was shut. Despite her grief she would never show that vulnerability to others. That was her downfall. She put the pen away in her pocket once more and walked out of the church. She needed to buy some flowers.