Page 39 of Living with Death

I sigh and climb into the shower, letting the water rain over me, warming me bone deep. And as I wash off my body and shampoo my hair, I try not to think Azrael won’t always be around.

Chapter Ten

“Mabel.” I hear. I blink, seeing nothing but a dark figure looming over me.

“Az?” I say, my voice sounding hoarse.

“Come on,” he says. “The sun will be rising soon.”

“The sun?” I ask, sleep still fogging my mind.

“Yes. Sunrise. It’s on your list.”

“Oh,” I say, sitting up. “You’re right.” I stretch and throw the covers off. The strap on my camisole falls, and I can see his eyes looking at it from the moon's glow coming into my room. The fan rotates, blowing the curtains.

I slide the strap up and put my feet on the floor. “I can’t remember the last time I got up this early.” I stand and walk to the bathroom, closing the door so I can get ready. Last night after my shower, I dressed and took an Uber to Cook’s to get us some food. Azrael wanted to do it, but I wanted to see my friend and tell him about my exciting day.

“Cook!” I called out as I walked into the store. “You will not believe what I did today.” I told him about the plane ride and the thrilling jump into the ocean. After he ensured I was all right from my bike accident, he smiled and told me he was proud I took a chance at something. I hugged him before I took our food home. He laughed at me and said, “Living life looks good on you.”

Azrael and I ate on the couch with a bottle of white wine, watchingYou’ve Got Mail, and sometime after, I fell asleep.

There are only two ways I could have ended up in my bed, and I know I didn’t walk up here, so that means he carried me. The thought makes my stomach flip.

Geez, I hope I didn’t drool. The Angel of Death is sitting on my bed when I walk back out.

I walk to the closet and pick out an outfit. I lift my shirt and toss it onto the bed. Azrael doesn’t look, and something tells me he won’t, so I get dressed behind him. After I pull my jeans up and slide a black sweater on, I grab a pair of socks.

“You have a place in mind for the sunrise?” he asks.

I laugh. “No. It’s too early to think right now.”

“I do,” he says. “But you’ll have to trust me.”

“Okay.”

We stand outside on my porch steps. Proof of the sun begins to light the morning sky. Azrael steps closer to me. My breath catches.

He bends to look into my eyes. “You said yesterday you knew I would never let anything happen to you.” His voice is low and deep. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Yes.”

He wraps his arm around me. “Good.” I hear a loud swoosh, and those black wings I saw the first night we met spread. “Hold on to me,” he says.

“Azrael, I don’t—” The wind takes my words, and I tighten my hold on him as he flies us up, up, up.

My heart thunders, and I hear his. I keep my eyes shut tightly, and my grip doesn’t let up as I plant my face into the warmness of his neck.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

My hair whips across my face as I squeeze my legs around him. His strong arms hold me firm, his heat covering me like a blanket.

“This is flying,” he says, his voice vibrating through my chest. “Look, darling.”

“I can’t.”

“You said you trusted me, remember?” I feel his face lean down, his cheek rubbing against mine. “I’d never drop you.” I pull away from his neck and blink my eyes, looking at his face.

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