Chapter 5: Protector

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~No matter how many breaths you took, you still couldn't breathe. ~No matter how many nights that you lied wide a wake to the sound of the poison rain. ~No many how many deaths I die I will never forget. ~No many how many lies I will never regret. ~

~Tell me would you kill to save a life? 

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David ushered me into the office with a hand on my back and locked it behind him.

“Have a seat before you have a heart-attack.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew him? Knew about him?” I immediately asked. I turned to face him and he was directly behind me, looking down at me with his large brown eyes. “How long were you going to pretend nothing was going on? I—“

“Faith,” he interrupted loudly. He put his hands up and motioned for me to calm down. “Please just have a seat and I’ll explain,” he said firmly.

“No!” I burst out. “No I won’t sit down! Tell me everything you know about me, about him about--about—“

I started to feel light head again.

David took a step forward and grabbed onto my shoulders when I was about to fall. I jerked my head up to his tall frame and suddenly felt vulnerable under his piercing gaze. My eyes traveled to his tattoo, then to his shaggy blonde hair, and then his eyes again, his hair, back to his tall frame, back down to his toes, and then—

I started to hyperventilate.

Was he Death?

“You’re…oh..my…”

He shook me. “Faith, stay calm, calm,” he said slowly, and rubbed small circles on the sides of my neck. My eye lids lowered a bit and I felt my muscles relax in my shoulders and my legs. David took a deep breath and I did the same.

I was moved towards the couch and before I knew it I was on the opposite side of David. It was weird to be looking at him from straight on but I tried not to show how uncomfortable I was.

David took a sip from the water-bottle on the coffee table and crossed his ankle over his leg, leaning back casually as if I didn’t just have a major panic attack. “W-what are you? Who are you?”

He lifted chocolate eyes up to me unexpectedly and a small shiver sent down my spine. “Well I’m not what you think I am, that’s for sure,” he answered smoothly and lazily slung his arms around the back of the couch. His eyes then grazed over my face for a moment before he broke an uncomfortable silence. “I’m not Death, Sweetheart. I’m a friend. So you can let that breath out you’ve been holding.”

I breathed out a heap load of carbon dioxide and then inhaled a mountain full of sweet freezing cold-David’s-office oxygen. I was good. I was fine, this was absolutely normal. I was talking to someone who confirmed my psychotic beliefs that I knew the Grim Reaper.

 “What do you mean by friend?” I asked carefully and tried to shut down the tremble that was rippling through my body.

“Fine acquaintance,” he fixed with a heated glare. “I’m a Light Angel.”

“A what Angel? Are you good or bad because….” I motioned around me. “I’m getting the hell out of here if you’re the bad kind.”

David smirked and flashed his sparkling white teeth. “I’m the best kind.”

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