To dance with Death [pt1]
To dance with Death [pt1] love stories
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lisahelleman
lisahelleman Just the exact opposite of heavenly.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
Love cannot be built in a one-way-street. If you do believe that, it is not going to end well.

To dance with Death [pt1]

He makes me feel like I exist. Like I matter. He makes me feel smart, pretty and significant. Like I can make a difference in the world. I want to make a difference in his world.

I want to make him feel like a person and I want to make him feel appreciated. If only I knew how to reach him. That damn wall is not coming down, at least not for now.

How do I even begin to tell this supposedly well-structured story when this life can be a maze of chaotic events?

When everything is just plain garbage, but you somehow manage to live through it, can you still clean up after yourself? Or do you keep pretending that nothing is wrong?

It is completely frustrating that you cannot choose for whom you fall. Love feels like dying to me. I have never been capable of loving another person, until now.

I am disgusted whenever I look into the mirror. What have I become? I used to love my isolated life. And now it feels like death is always just around the corner. Well, he kind of is...

The last time I danced with Death, I stepped on his toes. I payed for that. Now and then, I wake up, smelling the scent of it. But I don't mind, I never did.

As long as that scent accompaniesme, everything is fine. And so, I regret nothing. Maybe that is also because you never really remember what you are supposed to regret.

The only thing I know is that I woke up one day, smelling it for the first time ever. I would have never guessed that from that moment on, my life would never be the same again.

For no obvious reason. Even when I stepped over the two dead bodies in my bedroom. Once again, I was terrified, but happy.

Shit, what the fuck did I do last night? My head hurt like crazy. I could not remember a damn thing. I never remember a damn thing.

So I went downstairs, turned on the coffeemaker and lit up a cigarette. If I knew right at that time what I got myself into, I would've handled it different. I think...

I thought of his beautiful face as I tried to get the flares of my memory back into a logical timeline, but my mind drifted.

It's just so damn complicated. He has the most important job in the world. The Grim Reaper isn't a mythical figure wearing black worn off rags.

No, he's the most fucking handsome and desirable man in the world. That's what makes him so dangerous. He's an ice king. And I fell in love with him.

...

"You wouldn't be in this bad a shape if you knew just when to quit, right?" The deep voice coming from just outside the window sounded soothing as always.

"What do you care? I did you a favor last night. And I still don't know what happened, but I feel glad about it.

Who are those people anyway?" I said, breathing out smoke in the face that has just appeared in front of me. Who would've thought Death was so handsome?

He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger, and inspected my face.

"Geez, we're gonna have to clean you up. Why is it always such a mess with you?" He actually smiled at me. He never smiles at me...

He poured two cups of coffee and put one in front of me.

"Drink, you'll feel better," he said. "I know we can't do business when you haven't had your caffeine shot." He shook his head softly.

"I'm actually concerned about you, you got pretty beaten up last night."

I smiled. "I still won, apparently. Who were those people?" I knew he wouldn't tell me anyway. But I still always ask.

"There's no winning at this game, love. You should know that by now. There's no security at all. The only thing you should know is that I'm not going to let you die by their hands.

" He looks at me like he does. I hate it so much, but it warms me up. Until the sarcastic bitch in me drowns me in my own words.

"That's not really up to you, is it now?" I can't even look him in the eyes.

He sighes. "Love, I'm Death himself. That's kind of my job."

"At least you didn't kill anyone today," I joked, but this time I didn't make him smile. I hate it when he has no mimic response to what I'm saying.

"You say that like it was a difficult task. Try standing in my shoes once in a while." He didn't move. I hated him at that moment.

"Why does it always have to be such a struggle? Just admit it, you're into me. You like me..." I tried to look him in the eye, trying to catch a glimp of recognition.

Instead, all the color faded from his face. He looked at me like I just accused him of something horrible. Then he sighed.

"I admit that you're special to me, but I will never act up to it. I'll break you in half. And myself with it. I can't afford to lose myself.

I've got responsibilities, you know? Ones that you can't even begin to imagine." His volume was really low. Fuck off! Just let me in!

"I can help you with them. I think I know what you're going through. But I'm sick and tired of you denying everything. I know you want to dance with me, rather than around me.

" This was the first time I was mad at him. I got up, ready to leave.

"Don't try to get into my head!" he snarled. As I walked away I heard his footsteps following me.

"You don't know anything!" He pushed me against the wall, his hands tightly around my wrists. He stood there for several heartbeats, but it seemed like a million years. "It's...

too dark in here. I will break you." His grip loosened, but I didn't want him to let go. I looked him in his eyes. For a man, so adept to killing, his eyes were remarkably soft.

I didn't know what to say, only what to do. So I kissed him. He hesitated for a moment, but then he kissed me back. His lips felt soft, it was nice.

His grip tightened again and he kissed me harder. I let out a soft moan and there it was... the heat I've been waiting for ever since I met him. His hands were no longer holding my wrists.

His one hand was going through my hair and the other was around my waist.

As my hands were rubbing through his hair as if I was purposely messing it up, he lifted me up against the wall and kissed me so intensely, that time stopped for a moment.

Then he stopped. He looked at me like I he could hear my thoughts. He slowly put me down and I got confused. I thought he wanted me.

Right when I was about to say something to express my disappointment, he took off my dress and took me by the hand. When we arrived in his bedroom he gently put me down.

He leaned over me and I felt safe. I've never felt safer in his company. He slowly started to kiss my neck, down to my stomach, and stopped just at the border of my panties.

My breathing became heavier and louder. Please don't stop... Please...

...

Even though I fell asleep in his bed the night before, I woke up early in the morning in my own. It was not a dream. He was gone. Why was I surprised? I knew this would happen.

He made it very clear that he was not able to give a crap about me.

But why can't I shake the feeling that he does?

The way he touches me with a certain hesitation, the way we had sex last night, the way he looked me in the eyes when I told him not to worry about a thing. He believed me, I know he did.

But why is it so damn fucking hard to reach him?! What happened to him that he became this person? I couldn't help but think about him all morning.

A gentle knock on the window snapped me out of it. And there he was. Standing right in front of me, pale as always.

"You forgot your coat," he winked at me while handing it over. I wanted to invite him back into my bedroom, but something in me sensed that he never would.

Did I even wear a coat last night? I didn't remember. Although the coat I held in my hands was obviously mine. They had blood spetters all over the sleeves.

"I forgot I even had them on when I visited you..."

"That's because I took all of your clothes off. Hard to keep track of them when they're all over the place, right?"

I blushed, didn't know what to say. I grabbed him by the waist and tried to kiss him. He leaned in for a moment, only to turn away from me.

He straightened his back, turned around and his eyes were ice cold again.

"I told you already. I can't do this. I have too much responsibilities. I have to think not only for me, but for the well-being of everyone around us. I'm falling for you, that can't happen.

I lose grip of time when I'm around you..."

I smiled. "That's okay. I have lots of it. You can have some if you want to."

"Go fuck yourself." He finally smiled at me. "But right now I can't tell if I want to make you bleed or moan."

Fuck it. I pulled him inside. He surprisingly went with it. "Let's find out," I said, and closed the door. That door was not to be opened for the rest of the day.

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