I seem to want to write about characters visiting the graves of other characters.

Winter left a blanket of snow over Seto's grave. Often times, Mary found herself looking at it from her bedroom window for comfort. He hadn't been gone too long in Mary's time, but in his it would have been another life. She missed his warmth; the way his body pressed against hers under piles of blankets. She missed way he smiled at her; how he would put a hand on her forearm when she said something funny. After his death, she could still feel him in every part of the house he was missing from, but now she was beginning to forget his smell and the only reminder of him was in photographs.

She pushed the back door open and trudged to his grave, standing there a while before saying anything.

"You know, Seto, I've been thinking about you lots lately, and I wonder if it would be better if I came to see you."

Mary was cold.

Moved from fresh-hot-yaois