AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words spilling from me in a rush. “I’m sorry for not finding you sooner to thank you for what you’ve done, and the dresses. I only just saw them earlier. I truly do appreciate them—”
“Don’t thank me,” Death says, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “It was the least I could do.”
Clearly, this man has not been thanked enough for what he’s done. I frown, realizing the true depth of this thought.
Of course, how many people can honestly say they’ve thanked Death for what he does? His job is a thankless one.
A hated one.
My heart tugs at the thought of how lonesome and thankless his life must be. Extra guilt piles on me that he must have assumed I was the same way. How could he not after how long it took me to get around to thanking him?
Chewing my lip, I watch him as he glances restlessly about the room before his gaze finally lands on me again. Our eyes meet, and the space between us suddenly feels heavy with all the unspoken words between us.
Forcing his eyes away from mine, he suddenly turns his back to me as if to leave the room.
“Wait,” I call out, and he stops short, his shoulders tensing before he slowly pivots toward me. “There’s something I want to show you. It won’t take but a moment. Please?”
He cocks his head slightly to the side, his shadows swirling up with curiosity before finally giving me a small nod.
My smile brightens as I hurry over to him. Without thinking, I take his hand in mine as I lead him away from the sitting room. Death stiffens at my touch, but doesn’t pull away, allowing me to drag him hand in hand through his own halls.
He falls into step beside me as we make our way through the empty halls. I can feel his eyes on me as we walk, not a word spoken between us, as his hand tightens around mine.
I keep my eyes trained ahead, warmth pooling through my body as I realize he’s actually returned my touch for once.
Our silence is comfortable, and full of promise.
With each step closer, I feel my own excitement bubbling over. I can hardly wait to see what his reaction will be.
When we finally reach the door to my little studio, I pause with one hand on the door. Glancing back up at him, I find him watching me curiously as I pull in an excited breath.
“Now, close your eyes,” I tell him. I wait a moment, suddenly realizing how hard it is to tell from here whether or not he’s done as I’ve asked. “Are they closed?”
He nods once.
Grinning excitedly, I turn and push open the door, leading him into the room by his hand. Stopping in the middle of the room, I’m deliberate in the way I arrange him. His body stiffens with each touch of my hand, chills racing up and down my spine as his shadows swirl at my feet, but he doesn’t so much as say a word to stop me.
Finally satisfied with his placement, I reluctantly drop my hands to my sides and take a step back. I want to be able to see his reaction, even if it’s impossible to read much behind his mask.
“Okay,” I say, “you can open your eyes now.”
Slowly, Death drops his chin to stare at the painting sitting on the easel before him. Silence fills the room as I nervously wait with bated breath to hear what he thinks.
After all, it is a painting of him.
19
Death
Ido not know how long I spend staring at the painting. I could stand here forever marveling its beauty.
The girl has managed to capture my likeness, my very essence, in a way no one ever has before, and I doubt will ever again. I have seen countless depictions of myself throughout the ages, but none has ever come so close. In fact, they pale in comparison to this.
This painting is altogether terrifying in its perfection, as though she has somehow managed to pull back my mask to reveal who I truly am.
Or, at least, who I try to be.
I find myself unable to do anything but stand and stare, at a complete and utter loss for words. I know I should say something, but I cannot seem to find my voice.
