Ted Starling never presumed he'd enter a funeral hall for someone younger than him, or for someone who he had been so close with- yet so distant with.
It was a foggy autumn morning, the rigorous and chilly weather was fitting, yet unappreciated. The wisp of the wind caught in his throat- he let out a ragged breath. The weather was certainly disdainful, but it matched how Ted had felt this morning of drear and sorrow. He stood at the foot of the funeral hall's stairs, his siblings and cousins were all conversing outside the hall, fifty or so feet from him. People were yet to enter; he was the closest to the building.
Natalie Kabra died at the age of exactly fifteen years old, no older, no younger. She was still a kid, without a doubt, and Ted is unwillingly finding some way to admonish this entire corollary on himself- out of pure agony and self diminishment. Ted had monopolized death before; his grandmother, his grandfather, his aunt and uncle (who happened to be his cousins Amy and Dan's parents), his cousin, his uncle, his previous cousin-in-law, yet another aunt, furthermore, known as the mother of the deceased life celebrated on this momentous day, one more aunt, and another cousin. He had seen it all.
But as he stood in the open outdoors, staring amiss the tang-colored trees and the dying plant life, something inside him felt more perturbed than what he felt for everyone else. He asked himself why, even though deep down, he knew the answer. He had known for months, and yet- he'd never allow himself to become cognizant of the truth he knew all too well. As he stood- feet planted hard in the ground, he felt a hand lightly slide onto his shoulder, he recognized the hand without needing to see, of course, since he couldn't see at all.
"Hey bud, you doing okay?" Ned queried him, Ned was one of the few who knew how he felt about Natalie- how he valued her greatly as a friend. Well, that's how he saw it, not how Ted felt though. His feelings were way sinewier.
"Mhm." Ted mumbled, it was common knowledge that after the incident that Natalie passed during, Ted had gone dry. He'd respond in the bare minimum of an answer, eschewing any questions about how he was discerned. The less he had to say, the less he could promiscuously tell someone. He knew it disquieted his family and friends, but he couldn't assemble the trust and prowess to tell anyone about his struggle.
"Teddie, you can talk to me, you know. Ever since.. that, you haven't said much." Ned told Ted, a look of sympathy and condolence crept onto his face, even though Ted couldn't see the look. His unseeing and blank eyes stared in front of him, if one hadn't known any better about Ted's blindness, one could assume he was admiring the establishment that held the corpse of one he may of been infatuated with.
"Guys, it's time to go in and start the... service." Amy told her family, she hesitated while looking at Ian, who was absolutely diminished with the loss of his younger sister. Sinead approached her brothers, the tense air between the two was plain to see, and she approached wearily.
"Ned, Ted, everything alright? It's... time to go in." She told the two, Ted's empty hearted look seemed to catch a bleary look to Sinead's face. Ted closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before wearily following everyone else into the hall, as he muttered to Ned once more.
"Sorry."
.
Everyone found their seats, although no one was too advocate for this upcoming event. Per request of Reagan, Ted sat in the front row, Nellie was on his right, holding in a coterie of tears. On his left, a teary-eyed Reagan sat; trying to contain herself. He hung his head down, his hands clenched into fists on each leg, his breathing was ragged and shallow. Simultaneously, Reagan and Nellie each placed a hand over his clenched hands, Reagan squeezed a bit for support and smiled at him, Nellie patted him with her other hand and mouthed "Love ya".
As the director rose to speak, Ted tried to drown out any words that he spoke. The one thing holding him together was that he knew he'd never have to see her corpse. Just thinking about it caused one molecular tear to form, a single one that he luckily could prevent from falling- he already knew the moment one fell; they'd all come crashing down. He could feel himself near the edge of breaking, as Reagan spoke to him.
"It's okay, just keep yourself together, these only last about ten minutes." She told him, he nodded and tried to impel a smile, but all he got was visibly fraudulent fail of a grin. She shook her head and smiled.
"You're fake smile isn't very good, it's okay though. Ten minutes." She looked at the speak after telling him, this time, he did not make a fake smile, or attempt to. In the row next to them- the second front row, he could hear Ian's muffled sobs. He couldn't blame him for crying, not at all, his younger sister had died. The director began to talk about Natalie's life, everything about the clue hunt and the imprisonment with the vespers. He talked about her family, he even talked about Nellie and him, who he said were her two closer friends during her injurious captivity.
After ten minutes, the director spoke his last words, and everyone began standing. Ted's heart felt heavy. He was still having trouble rendering someone he had cared for so vitally, so extensively, would die. She was significantly younger than most people who came to her funeral- and she was dead.
Without warning, as his heart felt a miniscule twinge, he felt the first tear he had shed since his arrival- and it fell out of his eye, almost in slow motion. He felt more build up faster than he could stop it, and as everyone busied themselves with consoling one another, he used his hands a guide to feel his way outside. With every step, he tried speeding up his movement; not wanting to cry in front of everyone, because he'd then have to tell someone about his infatuation.
And right as he stood in the open doorframe, he felt absolutely awestricken, this was the first time he proposed that as a thought. Had he been infatuated with Natalie? He had never noticed the possibility that he could've had liaison for Natalie Kabra- a Kabra. None the less, a dangerous Lucian who had tried to kill many people, including some of his closest family members.
With on hand holding on the doorframe, his body swayed slowly. If he had been able to see, he would've been in awe from the autumn beauty- but he could not. He had been blinded in the accident with the Holt's. He had forgiven them, especially Reagan; they had been especially convivial and amicable. He knew there were stairs in front of him, and he slowly used his feet to guide him. As he exited, a voice called out once again.
"Teddie, you okay?" Ned called out, Ted didn't turn around- almost as if he didn't hear the question. As he stepped off the last stair, he walked through the autumn forest behind the hall, sitting next to a tree. As he sat and reflected on what more he could have done- tears poured out of his eyes before he could process what was happening. He cried and cried, he sobbed and gasped for any air he could. He buried his head in his legs, allowing his screams and cries to echo around him- what more did it matter who heard him now? He sobbed and shrieked, cursing himself an everyone else out, even if it was directed to no one but himself.
"How could I-I have let this- this fucking happen?!" He screamed, punching a fist into the cold, solid soil. He regretted that deeply; it stung. As he sobbed and sobbed; unable to slow himself down, a final thought dawned on him. He really had been infatuated- in love, with Natalie Kabra.
He was unbelievably in love with her- and what was she?
She was dead.