Reaper [Zarry]

death thirteen

"You should have finished him off," he hisses. "It was a golden opportunity."

"I fucking love him," I spit back. "You're sick. So sick and twisted. I hate this. I don't want this. I never asked for this."

His hand wraps around my neck and I'm choking on my own spit, struggling for air. I won't let him win. He doesn't control me.

If anyone controls me it's Harry. He releases his vice-like grip and I look at him, anger boiling inside of me, hot blood pumping through my veins.

"That's it," he laughs wickedly. "Harness your hatred."

"No," my voice cracks. "You're trying to manipulate me. It won't work. I'll never hurt him."

"I'm afraid you don't have the choice. Time is running short. Letting go gets harder with every passing second. You're infatuated. It's so pathetic," he laughs coldly. "Do you think he needs you?"

"Stop," I cry out, voice pained.

"He doesn't love you anyway. He'd move on in a heartbeat. Do you really think he's over-"

"They're just friends. You're getting in my fucking head," I scream. "Get out! Get out!"

"You used to be so strong. He makes you weak. Kill him. Kill him and never fall in love again. Is that understood? This was never meant to happen."

"I won't do it," I snarl. "I won't hurt him."

"We made a deal," he growls and then searing heat is swallowing me. My throat closes up, flames licking and roaring around me.

He snaps his fingers and suddenly I'm back in my flat, bloody terrified.

"Oh my God!"

The smoke alarm is beeping and I'm petrified. His power doesn't extend to the mortal world. How is this possible? Smoke is billowing through the living room, I cough and cough until it my throat feels punctured, airwaves constricted. I'm dropping to my knees and crawling into the kitchen to get the fire extinguisher from under the sink. I spray and spray until the fire is tamed.

That was horrifying. My body shudders and I lean against a wall for support, breathing still labored.

I fumble for my phone and shakily dial Harry. Luckily he picks up on the second ring.

"Zayn?"

"Harry," my voice trembles. "A fire started in the living room. It must have been a candle or something. I don't know, I don't know how it happened. I'm so confused. What should I do?"

"You're okay. That's all that matters. How bad is the damage?"

"Everything seems okay but I'm going to open a window. The smoke is really thick. There's a whole cloud of it."

"Babe you shouldn't stay inside. That's really bad for your lungs."

"I'm grabbing my backpack and a few other things. Can I go to your place?"

"Yeah, of course. Do you want to just... permanently move in? We can look at the stars every night. I mean I'm not pressuring you to finish the ceiling art-"

"Really? Harry," my heart slows in my chest. "Are you sure you're okay with that? It's a big step."

"I'm madly in love with you. I want to share my life with you. Sharing a place is just a small part of the deal."

I laugh and hastily grab some things, packing them in my bag.

"How is work? Do you want me to grab you lunch today?"

"No that's okay. I think I'll go with a co-worker. Don't you have more important things to worry about, like how there was a fire in your flat?"

"It isn't a hazard anymore and...should I be jealous?"

He giggles and my heart melts like warm wax.

"Mayyybe. You seem like the sexy when jealous type though."

"I'm sexy anyway, yeah?"

"Sure," he chuckles. "My bad. Hey, I have to go," he says hurriedly. I can feel the smile in his voice as he quickly exhales "I love you."

"I love you too," I whisper. The line goes dead and my heart thuds in my chest.

He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me. Somebody loves me.

His house feels like home. The scent of warm vanilla and brown sugar.

I especially like his bedroom with its large bay window, fairylights strung up. There's a giant fuzz rug at the foot of his bed and a pile of plush pillows on top, bed perfectly made.

It's a light drizzle outside and it's oddly peaceful. My heart feels content. I begin unpacking my stuff and nosily sort through his dresser drawers. There's nothing that interesting in his room besides a folded piece of paper on the nightstand.

Despite my brain warning me against it, I read it.

Reasons to live:
1. The world is beautiful
2. You're still young
3. Zayn (move to number 1)

My heart sinks as I realize the implications of that.

I quickly shake the bitter thought away and finish painting his ceiling, stupid grin on my face. He's going to be so happy, beautiful smile on his face when he sees it.

The smell of smoke doesn't fade so I hop in the shower, scrubbing diligently at my scalp with his shampoo. I love Harry's scent. It's soft and sweet but has a crisp edge. I can't really describe it but it's distinctly him.

I love the texture of his skin, smooth like velvet, pale, the color of porcelain. And of course his rose tinted cheeks when he blushes and his full baby pink lips. When he smiles I feel the rest of the world dissolve around me. I want to kiss him until I'm short of breath, carefully tucking his curls behind his ear.

Most importantly, I'm in love with who he is. Harry is the purest, most passionate person I have ever had the blessing of knowing. He's encouraging words and small acts of kindness. He's bright pink and vivid orange sunsets and sunshine peeping through a line of clouds. He's pleasant dreams and nights spent snuggled up beneath warm covers. He's bright giggles and messy kisses but you don't mind that too much because somehow he finds a way to stop the world, he makes your breath hitch and your heart flutter.

I want my fingers lost in his curls and the wetness of his mouth.

Simply put I just want him. It's a dull ache that never goes away but I believe in miracles.

and fuck I believe in heaven

because he's it

A/N: bruh 😭