Page 31 of Living with Death

“Fried fish? “

“Yes. I’ve never had it.”

“How? “I ask. “No pizza? No fried food? What do you eat?”

He laughs lightly. “The food in our realm is nothing like the food here. There are no artificial flavors. Everything consumed is natural and cooked most healthily.”

I nod in understanding. “Well, let’s get fried fish. I need to shower and change.”

“I’ll wait,” he says.

I hurry up the stairs, yanking off my shirt, sliding my sweats down, and tossing them into the hamper. I shower, washing my body and being careful of my hair. My eyes go to my legs, and I see they could use a shave, so I run the razor over them, rinsing before I hop out. I grab the lotion, squirting some into my hand and rubbing it all over me as I walk to my closet.

Geez, I will start sweating again if I don’t slow down. I spot a green velvet romper I purchased a while back and never wore. The color would look nice against my red hair, so I slide it on, along with some small wedges. I blow dry my hair, put a slight curl at the ends, and dab on some makeup, looking at my eyes a little longer than necessary. I haven’t worn contacts in so long. I forgot how lovely my eyes are.

Wow, I just complimented myself.

Go, Mabel.

I stop myself as I walk out the door, looking at the full-length mirror across the room.

Hold on a second, Mabel. This male isn’t here to stay. Azrael is not of this earth. He’s the Angel of Death, for God’s sake. Feelings for him are––wait,feelings?

There are no feelings. I’m enjoying Azrael’s company. He’s made me realize I don’t like being alone—all the time. I nod, moving my hair over my shoulder, convinced I know what I’m doing. I walk out of the room.

He stands at the bookshelf, dressed in black slacks, nice shoes, and a blazer.

“Ready? “I ask.

He turns to me. His eyes glow, raking down my body. “You look beautiful,” he says. His voice is low and weighted.

I smile awkwardly. “Thank you. We could eat at this restaurant by the water if you wish. They have fresh fish.”

“That sounds lovely.”

As we step out of the house, I realize I don’t have a ride. I laugh. “Um, I normally ride my bike everywhere.”

“I’ve noticed.”

A car pulls up. I give him a questionable look.

“I see you do many things with your phone, so I looked through it.” He holds his hand up. “I know, privacy, but I managed to order us an Uber.”

I smile. “Why, Azrael. I’m proud.”

He laughs, and it’s heavenly.

We take the steps and climb into the back seat of the car. As we ride, I notice him looking out the window. I wonder if he’s ever ridden in a car before. Awful to have been around as long as Azrael and never been able to experience any of these things.

Once we arrive at the restaurant, we both exit the car and are seated shortly after. Lights reflect off the water, and boats rock near the marina. Candles dance around the room, placed over a white linen tablecloth, and sparkling water rests beside silverware rolled in black dinner napkins.

“It’s a bit fancy,” I say.

His lip lifts, but his eyes have darkened. I see them dart around the room before they settle back on me. The candle paints his face in a soft glow, the collar of his blazer sits against his long neck, and the white of his shirt nearly glows. I think about our dance earlier and bite my lip—the feel of his hand on my back, his closeness. I inhale and shake those thoughts away.

What is going on here?

“I’ve only been here once in my life to eat.” My voice comes out raspier than usual. I clear my throat, taking a sip of my water.

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