Page 21 of Living with Death

“Privacy?”

“Yes.” I open my drawer and pull out some sweats and a t-shirt. “You can't tell me you don't know the meaning of privacy?”

“I understand the meaning, but privacy was not part of our agreement.”

I frown. “Well, there are going to be moments, such as this, where we need alone time.”

He gives me a small smile. “Understood. I'll let you dress.” And with that, he leaves me. I stand still for a moment, looking at the floor.

How is this going to work?

I'm not used to having anyone here, and he doesn't even understand the meaning of privacy.

Or he does. He's just choosing to ignore it.

I toss my towel onto the bed, put my clothes on, gently comb my hair, and wrap it up before heading down. Death leans against the big window, holding the thick curtain open, gazing out at the lawn.

I watch him for a moment, standing at the end of the staircase. I hold on to the handrail and gaze at this handsome creature in my home. How foreign this is. I don't even have a pet, and now I have a man, well, a male of some sort, here in my living room.

Not just any male, Mabel. You have Death himself in your house. His hands are in his pockets; he looks lost in thought.

“Something on your mind?” I ask, my hand slipping from the railing as I walk into the living room.

He closes the curtain before turning around, his eyes studying my wardrobe. I try not to overthink it as I pick up a stack of books from the coffee table and place them on the floor by the bookshelf.

“Nothing of importance.”

I walk over to where he is sitting on the window seat. “Sorry for snapping up there. I…” I run a finger over my chin. “I don't know how to do this. There hasn’t been another person here in a long time.” I brush a piece of lint from my pants. “I’m unsure of how to share my life with someone.”

“That makes two of us.”

I look over at him, and his eyes darken.

“So your name is Jack?” I grin curiously.

He smiles. “No. My family calls me Azrael, but I didn't think your friend would think that was common.”

I nod. “You're probably right.” I sit down, crossing my legs. “You have a family?” I don't know why I didn't think he did, but I'm curious about who they are.

“Yes. We don't see one another often. We're all busy.”

“Well, I know what you do.”

He smiles, removing his hands. He sits with his body turned toward mine. “Aren't you hungry?”

“I'm fine.”

“You're not fine. I could hear your stomach growl from down here.”

I fold my lips. “Okay, you win.” I stand. “You like pizza?”

“I've never had it.”

I turn to look back at him with wide eyes, but then realize he may not eat at all. “Do you eat?”

He smiles. “I do.”

“But not pizza?”

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