What had arisen between you was not friendship. Not love. Not even pure hatred. It was a gaping wound, an emptiness. There was no him, there were only the two of you. Was that bad? Definitely yes.

Christopher and you were partners once. Not exactly friends, you hadn't liked each other before, but it was bearable. But the moment he showed up... Gabby, your personal doctor, who by some stupid chance met you at different times and under different circumstances, but somehow you both liked Gabby. Although it wasn't very noticeable, you both felt that your relationship was getting more and more heated each time, until it got to the point where you began to forbid Gabby from seeing Christopher, and Christopher encouraged Gabby to listen to you every time, took him somewhere, and constantly provoked you. While you were competing with each other like this, you didn't notice that at some point Gabby distanced himself from both of you. He was tired of it. And at one point, after Christopher took Gabby to the warehouse for some reason, and an angry you came and took Gabby back, you all got into a fight. When you came to him two days later, you found Gabby dead. Suicide.

After this, Christopher disappeared for a while, and when he appeared a few months later, he seemed to have gone crazy. He didn't let you forget about it, he said it was your fault. For the fourth anniversary, he sent you things that reminded you of Gabby with nasty captions, met you at the grave on this day. The last time Christopher taunted you while you had him pinned against the wall, you broke three of his fingers, which healed crookedly, and then he left a similar scar on his shoulder, which Gabby had, saying that Gabby wanted Christopher to kill you. Christopher's worst habit was sleeping with men who looked like Gabby, and each time he would send the man's bloody shirt to your doorstep. It is unknown what happened to these people, and whether it was their blood, but you did not care. You just wanted the bastard to stop doing this, but for now you were forced to just throw away these shirts. It seemed like you both suffered greatly from this. Even after four years, the wounds that were left in the past, and that you leave for each other to this day, have not healed. Ever.

A shadow fell across the grave.

Christopher smirked down at you, a fresh scar twisting his lip. "It's so sad to watch you every time. What a sufferer, my heart breaks..."

There was no pity in his gaze as he watched you kneel before the grave, pressing your forehead to the cold stone. The white roses you always brought lay nearby.

Christopher shook his head, sighing and walking forward. He placed the bottle of whiskey on the ground next to you and picked you up by the collar.

"Come on, time to heal the emotional wounds. Every year. Well, every week, depending on who you ask." He shrugged and threw you forward, pushing you towards the gazebo a few meters away.