J/P, Rated G
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all Voyager characters I'm just playing.
I walk towards the coffin clutching a single rose. Blood red, his favorite color. The color of his uniform; the last one he’ll ever wear.
I move closer and stand above him. His hands are laced upon his chest, stilled forever by the blast that killed him. I lean down and kiss his cheek, feeling for the last time the stubble that used to scratch my face when he kissed me.
I slide the green length of stem beneath his pale fingers, and lay the dark blossom on his chest. The tears rise, and then fall.
Tom Paris is dead.