The Reaper's Touch

12. I'd Pray To God ..

"What have you done?!" I pushed out of his arms, regret surging through my system.

I was more than sick to my stomach, I was ill enough to die. Die for eternity. Nothing left, not even what I am now. Just gone. I wanted to vanish, to do what I'd done earlier. But for some unfortunate reason, I couldn't.

I dropped to my knees, hands clinging to my headstone. We were there, at my gravesite. And I couldn't fathom why I was so ashamed to be here.

"Leave!" I threw one arm back, not wanting him to come any closer. He couldn't see, not this. Not my body here, I was here with him. Not here here.

Not buried here.
Not buried here.
Not buried here.

Was he trying to hurt me for being in Mike's arms? Did I deserve to feel this way? What had I done?

"Please!" I cried, trying to scream it at him with everything in me, but voice breaking off mid-word.

I couldn't hear him, not a sound came from him. Not even when he knelt beside me and placed a hand to my shoulder, and wrapped the other one around me to embrace me, holding me closer.

He said nothing, he let himself be nothing in the moment for me. I sobbed even harder then, body nearly convulsing in his hold.

"Please." I could barely manage again.

"Mm," I could feel the sound vibrating off his chest as he shifted so that I was pressed flat against him, he crooked my neck up for my head to face him. His thumb held it in place so that I couldn't move away.

"You brought us here."

What? Why would I?

"N-no.." I tried to shake my head, but his thumb and index finger held me firmly in place.

"Yes, your ability is coming in faster than expected."

"What do you mean?"

"Emberly.."

I held my breath, needing complete silence after hearing how my name sounded, rolling so effortlessly off his tongue. He rarely addressed me as anything, let alone by my name. To correct something that sounded so holy coming from him would have been a downright sin.

"You've bloomed before even I did after my awakening. That is why I've been slow in progression, not because I don't wish to train you. For that, I will not apologize, because I was only trying to do this with my best intentions, but even I only know so much at times."

I wasn't sure if that was his way of apologizing or not, but it sounded sincere enough. Well, as sincere as Death, himself, could be I suppose.

"But I will apologize for-" I could feel him tense under me. "That insolent, narcissistic Archangel who knows nothing of what he claims to. He should have never brought Emberline into this, she has nothing to do with why I-"

I looked back and forth expectedly into both of his raging blue eyes. I could swear they were the source of my tingles as each one felt like they sparked my skin with just a glance.

"..why I'd agreed to train you." He shook his head, "Yes, Emberline came to mind when I first met you. But you are absolutely nothing like her."

"Is that.. a bad thing?" I hiccuped, trying to make my voice loud enough for him to hear over my subsiding whimpers.

His eyes softened, not looking as demanding as they usually did. "It's.. refreshing, satiating to know that you're not, in fact."

His answer hadn't been what I was expecting. And I'm sure he could tell that by the scrunch of my face, that I was confused now more than ever, and that was saying something for a girl who didn't know much of anything. Even about herself.

"...I don't want you to be like her," He continued, "I wouldn't have been able to stand it if you were. Your looks may resemble, even your name, but your soul.. is completely of it's own."

"My soul?"

He leaned over, and I tensed, mind buzzing with the thought that he was going to kiss me. Surprised with myself that though shocked, I didn't pull away from his proximity to me. But instead, he rested a fist on the top of my headstone until the next second, it was just crumbled pieces of stone beside us. He'd shattered it like it was nothing.

"This is not you. At least not anymore. Your soul is the real you, a body is just a vessel in which the real you inhabits to bring life to. It is nothing without your soul. And Ember, you are everything. Everything that you are is.. here with me now."

I looked down at all the pieces, then back up at him. How could he have known what I'd felt? I guess it was only right to assume he might've felt the same at one point in time as well. Or maybe he'd needed to have this talk with someone else before me. Emberline, maybe?

"Will you let me stay? And-and train under you still?" My eyes watered and I felt the need to cry again. "I may not be able to live up to whatever this Emberline girl has made everyone head over heels about, but I could try to do this my way.. with your help. If you let me." I rambled.

What if he wants me gone now? What if I'm just burdening him with my ignorance?

He stood, giving me room to adjust and compose myself, allowing me to stand and wipe my face. A part of me waited to see if he'd hand me a handkerchief, but was glad when the gesture didn't happen. He wasn't like Mike, he wasn't like anyone.

He was Ezra, the Reaper, Death. But above all, he was comfort. It may heave been natural, since all death that came to people would be comfy in the end, right? I mean, even I don't remember pain, I don't even remember how I died.

But Ezra comforted me like no one else had done before, not the Angels, even though Mike had tried. It wasn't the comfort I'd needed.

He put his always expectant arm out, large hand awaiting and sending waves of rippling energy in my direction. Tingles spread across my pale flesh.

"As you know, you can't-"

"Back out," I finished, accepting my choice and understanding fully that revoking my decision wasn't an option, at all, ever.

"Yes." He pulled me in and I closed my eyes as my head pressed into him, not needing to be told. The smell of accumulating rain and a woodsy scented aroma swarmed around me. It was him. He was surrounding my every sense.

Of taste, like I could've been playing in the the natural showers of outside. A young girl again, putting her head back to catch the rain on her tongue. Of touch, I latched my arms around him, holding tighter than I normally did. Much tighter than necessary. And was happy when he returned it all the same.

Of sound, his mm's were soft, yet husky. Full of thought, yet so defiant with the smallest push of air up his lungs. And of sight, which I didn't have to see, to know his smokey haze had appeared around us, immersing us in it's consolation.

"Yet even if you could back out.."

I didn't think it was possible, but I held tighter, feeling like I should've nearly suffocated him by now. He leaned his head down, mouth to my ear and breath just a whisper.

"I'd pray to God that you wouldn't."