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“I’ll wear it for tonight, love!” Said the young man. The man, Hershel, plants a gentle kiss upon his currently ill gingered hair lover, Claire’s head.
“Alright…” Claire says, trying to hold in a cough. Before letting out a mild coughing fit.
“Now get going Hershel…! Ack… you're going to be late…!” Claire attempts to push him put, but is bit too weak to do anything. Hershel softly chuckles, then gently and quickly guide his sweetheart to a play where she can lay down.
“I’ll be back soon my love.”
Hershel softly says before leaving their flat. As Claire falls to sleep, little did she know that last time she’ll ever hear his voice.
Hours fly by and Claire jolts awake to an explosion nearby. Both curiosity and fear flood her system as she feverishly and quickly puts on more clothes. Topping it off with her beloved’s gift tilted slightly on top of her head.
As she stumbles upon the outside world, dread hits her in the air. Her glaze is focused on the direction of the smoke.
“Oh no…” she mutters quietly, she begins rushing over to the direction of the smoke. Claire feverishly wonders upon the scene, a crowd of people already fills the area. A wave of fire bursts out panicking the crowd and Claire.
A small girl, roughly the age of thirteen, clings onto Claire as the authorities try to handle the situation. As the fire settles, the girl tries to rush in, screaming for her parents. Claire tightly holds the crying girl.
“You can't go in! You'll get yourself injured!” Claire sternly tells her, the girl cries out for her lost parents, while Claire quietly mourns for her hershel.
Claire abruptly wakes up, she takes a quick look before getting up to get dressed for the day. She stands in front of a mirror and puts on his hat, still in pristine condition. Claire takes a moment to look at the top hat.
It's been seven years since that fateful day, not one moment does she not think of him. Claire starts walking over to the front door of her flat, she takes one good look around before she leaves.