Page 55 of Living with Death

I look up at him as I entwine our fingers, having missed him more than I’d care to admit.

It scares me.

I’ve kept myself far from people, especially any sort of romantic relationship. These feelings are happening so quickly. So fast, I can’t control myself.

He will hurt you, my inner voice says.

But I shove it away because his presence is too significant to ignore with how he looks at me. That stare could move mountains.

He peers down at me, his eyes dark, but here in this moment, with the way the sun is shining, I can see sparks of gold, not a cluster, just a few specks swirling in the darkness. I swallow, looking into his opaque eyes, feeling his fingers rub against mine.

My eyes go to his lips.

His dart down to mine.

I lean up, and he tips his head.

Our lips graze one another’s ever so lightly.

My eyes shut as I taste his lips, and then I slip my tongue past mine, seeking his. He presses closer, pulling me flush against him, and his fingers dig into my back. I hold on to his sides, my hands pulling him in. Our tongues lick and taste, dance, and discover.

I’m breathless when he pulls away, fluttering my eyes open and seeing him staring at me. His Adam's apple moves when he swallows. I let go of his black shirt and slap his chest. “Don’t disappear like that.”

He frowns.

“I was worried.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Where were you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m back now.”

I slide my hands into my pockets. “It matters to me.”

He runs his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know how much I should tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because it may frighten you, and I don’t want that.”

“You can’t scare me.”

His eyes darken. “I’m Death, darling. The word exists because of me.”

My eyes lower, and I gnaw my inner cheek. “Your life is so much different than mine.”

“Yes,” he breathes without hesitation. There’s a tightening around his eyes.

Honestly, I want to tell him what scares me is the fact he’ll go back to his life after he’s changed mine so entirely, and I’ll be left here alone.

“When you decide to leave, this will all be a short-lived moment for you, but for me.” I rub my arm as the wind rustles the leaves. “I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking back on a time when Azrael, the Angel of Death, came into my life and changed it forever.”

He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, dipping to look into my eyes. “But don’t you understand? It is you who changed mine.”

I nip his thumb. Trying not to get teary-eyed, I slip into playfulness. “This isn’t a competition.”

His grin causes my core to tighten. It’s overwhelming how he makes me feel. As if I’m getting pulled in two different directions. A fall breeze licks my nape, and I press my hands into my sweater pockets.

---