Yo so this was made for a friend but y'all can read it anyway

Enjoy

Tw: suicide hints

_sincerely-me_

Another winter day, like yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that...Everyday became a blur to Charles at this point, and none of these days really mattered. It had been the same as last year, but a lot more quiet. He hadn't went outside that year. But this year he watched everybody getting ready to celebrate christmas, and this year was going to be the first in a while he'd be spending it alone.

He watched his footprints form in the snow, listened to giggles and laughter from children ice skating and felt the cold progress through his body, making it's way to his hands up to his fingertips where it began to sting. Charles looked down at his now bright red hands from the cold, deciding to put gloves on. He threw his bag down onto the ground because he knew he was not in a good enough mood to position his body in an awkward manner just to open it, kneeling down and beginning to unzip it.

Doing so was a little difficult since by now he could barely even move his hands, but he managed. He immedientally put on the gloves once he got a hold of them, closing the bag again and practically throwing it back onto his back. He kept on walking down the street, people who recognized him beginning to mutter among themselves, presumably about him.

Usually during this time of year Charles would be the first person to go bouncing down the street, greeting everybody as he walked by. And soon he talked to just about everybody and they all knew his name, and he knew theirs. He remembered pretty much everybody and what's been going on in their life. But this year, he was dead quiet. There was no 'How's the kids been?' There was no 'I haven't talked to you in forever!' There was no 'We should catch up again sometime!'

All there was was the sound of his boots crushing the dead leaves and leaving footprints in the snow. No songs would be sung, no cheers would be cheered. This year, he was the one who needed to be comforted. Not some random woman in the streets, not a lost child who can't find his parents. He did.

He didn't actually like wearing gloves. Of course if he did, he would've wore them going outside in the first place. He actually has a pretty reasonable reason for disliking it. It was because he couldn't look at his wedding ring whenever he saw his hands, and neither could women who wanted to try and hit on him. So it kinda just brought up something he'd really just prefer to try and forget.

"Are you absolutely sure you'll be completely okay?"

"I'm certain."

Charles looked up at the cloudy sky, taking a long, deep breath in and out. "I could really use your help right now, you dummy..," he murmured, before continuing to walk until he got to an outdoor stalls with tables specifically up for christmas. Said stalls sold food, exactly the same as last year and every other year. Today he ordered two seperate meals, placing one in front of himself and another at the other side of the table. Some people were looking and wondering what on Earth he was doing but Charles couldn't care less.

'Careful, it's spicy.'

'Whatever, whatever, I can handle it.'

Charles took another deep breath in and out, the cold revealing it in the air. He took off his gloves, starting to eat slowly, which was unusual for him. He took another glance up to the sky. "Maybe I was overdramatic, huh?"

"Ah! It's hot!"

"What did I tell you?"

"Just hand me the water, dork!"

"I mean, it's not that spicy after all," he continued until he was finished, not touching the other meal at all. He stared at the other chair, talking to seemingly himself which made other people around start to stare.

Suddenly, some women walked over to him, making some suggestive hints with her body. She started to get a little touchy with Charles, which made him clearly uncomfortable. "Can I help you..?" He asked quietly.

"The real question is if I can help you," she stated, tracing his jawline with her finger. "I'm not interested," Charles told her quickly, which she chose to ignore. "My, my," she smirked, looking at the other meal. "Aw, did somebody blow you off?" She started to rub his body with her hands again. "I would never do that, you know."

The woman had a look at his hands, noticing the wedding ring. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at that. "Your wife did? How unfortunate, I would never treat you like that."

"Appreciated, but I think you'll find they had a pretty good reason not to come," Charles deadpanned.

"And that would be?"

"Well, he's dead."

The womans eyes widened a little, taking a step back. "Oh," she murmured. "I'm sorry," she whispered, finally taking a hint and backing off, leaving Charles sighing. "The audacity of people, huh, Ronnie?" He chuckled sadly.

He fiddled a little with his ring, unable to look at the seat and meal anymore. He remembered the trip to the hospital. He remembered the screams, the tears, the heartbreak. And no matter what he did, he couldn't get the image of finding his husband hanging out of his head. The way the rooms silence was filled with only his screams and cries for help.

And now, all of the noise in the present time was covered up in Charles' head with that same silence of that room. Except this time he was a lot more quiet. He started to sob quietly to himself, feeling the other food start to get cold, wishing that somebody was there to eat it.

As he took out a photo of Aaron, placing it on the other side of the table, all he could manage to sob out was,

"God, I miss you.."