Disclaimer: Neither I, nor M.A., own the CdF series. If she did, her favourite characters wouldn't have died (like in every other book she reads), and if I did Mika would have a new love interest :3

M.A.: Also, I would kill of Darren, and replace him with someone less annoying – like Steve! Sorry fan girls...

Star's A/N: Well, now that that creep fest is over... M.A. here was the one who came up with this idea, when we were both having one of those moments involving role-play that sounded like it was from a crack fic, what with her and Arrow messing around with a video camera.

Yeah, we're random like that.

Anyway, just would you mind maybe leaving a note to her saying you like her idea or something? And, I know this makes no sense, but that's mostly because I wrote it in no time at all, and ended up crying. Please don't ask why, but I don't think reading it over and over five times to check it made sense (though I'm still not sure) was the best idea.

Anyway, sorry this is so long – I won't write anything at the end. Please, please, please R&R!

He stood, looking at the stone slab in front of him, remembering the reason it was there, and the person it symbolised. It didn't do her justice really. The stone was dark and cold, were as she had been a happy person.

What would I know though? He asked himself. I'm the reason this had happened. If I had been stronger – just the smallest bit stronger – I could have stopped it all. She might still be here beside me.

The only thing that really made him think of her about the cold, grey stone was the engravings across the top. Primroses; her favourite flower. The framed the top, and looped down the sides, framing the writing that pronounced his lover to be truly hidden away from him.

The man in question was unusual, to say the least. He was gothic, in appearance at least, but everyone tried to read him from his cover. He was unlike anyone else believed him to be – a childish, strong, and friendly person, even if he portrayed himself differently.

The wind blew his dark hair, pushing it in front of his eyes. In his hands was a single white rose, a gift to his missing love. The full moon that hung in the sky was framed with stars, making the whole night feel strangely romantic.

It was mocking him.

The man closed his eyes, tilting his head back, taking a deep breath. Looking at such a depressing sight was hurting his heart. It reminded him how he'd had to miss her passing in so many ways. He couldn't come out in the daylight to say his farewells, and had resorted to returning after her family had returned home.

The only thing hurting him more than that realisation, was the fact he knew that, with a small amount of strength, he could have stopped it all. If only he had thought about blooding her – he had, but couldn't bare the idea of it – she might be beside him at that very moment, laughing about the incidents surrounding their lives.

But, neither she, nor he had noticed that she'd had the illness, which could be cured so easily by the vampire. It was an awful feeling, having lost her in that way. It wasn't even possible to explain the pain he had felt when she had informed him why she would never see him again – a simple thing like being unwell had stopped it.

However, he had felt twice as bad when he found out what the illness was.

What was the chance of her, his sweet primrose, getting something so hopeless? There was so little chance of it all stopping and her getting better. It was so..... So.....

Terminal.

Sighing, the man looked back at the grave, and gave in. He took a few steps forward, kneeling beside the newly turned brown soil that marked her burial place. Carefully, he laid the delicate rose onto it, the white petals rippling slightly in the wind. It was so like she; so fragile and innocent, but also strong and beautiful. It drew you to it, and made you feel something you never could. A feeling rather like wonder, like something magical was hidden deep away inside it aroma.

Once you found it, you couldn't live without it.

At that moment, he realised something:

His life was never going to be the same. He could never – and he meant never – be the same again. She had been the only thing helping him to grasp his desperately slipping humanity – the only thing stopping him slipping fully into the life of a vampire, and giving up everything he had loved so as a human.

But now it was all over, and he knew in his heart, he would never be able to hold onto all that ever again. It was hopeless. He would fail even if he did try. There would be no point.

This was the end of everything as he knew it. Now, he would slip back into his depressive life of being a vampire, the darkness slipping back over.

No! He growled in his head. I will try, and I will manage everything I believe I am unable to – I can stay this way.

But, he knew he couldn't. I had taken a lot of effort to stop being that way, but staying that way without help? No, it was impossible. He couldn't.

But I-

He never finished his train of thought.

At that point, Mika Ver Leth, admitted it would all fail. He could never live without her, and he would not try to.