Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 38: Betrayal

SSSSSSUUUUHH DUDE? I just bit into a Whopper from Burger King. #YEEEEE

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            As I came to, Death's furious, venomous features hovered over me like a nightmare come to life, and I knew instantly I was in trouble. Too bad I was so relieved to see him that I didn't care.

"You look like shit," he said in that deep, hypnotic voice.

"Good morning to you, too." I put a palm to my forehead and rubbed at a stabbing headache. "Oh, lovely. Feels like a hydraulic press smashing into my brain."

Tilting my heavy head away from Death's rude unpleasantness, I noticed we were in some part of Ace's library. The lights were dimmed down, but I could see the outline of books upon books upon books on shelves and it was peacefully quiet. We were alone in this big space.

"How long was I out?" I groaned.

Death breathed hard through his nose like a dragon, as if struggling to compose his moody ass enough to get one more sentence out. "Four hours."

"Four hours?" Well, that was terrifying. It had felt like fifteen minutes in the other world, tops. "No wonder my bladder is going to explode."

"Do not piss on me."

"It was a hyperbole, dude. I don't have to pee that bad." I pressed the heel of my palm into my forehead again.

His sweltering gaze slid over my horizontal body, hitching on the swell of my breasts, before landing on my face. By then I was on fire.

I tried to sit up, but Death's hand didn't budge on my shoulder. His fingernails stabbed the ends of gloves, razor sharp talons primed to release. Sinfully masculine muscles constricted beneath leather and thin black cotton. A body built to kill...and lick––stop it.

That was when I realized the firm pillow underneath my head was Death's muscular thigh. My head was situated in his lap. We were on a couch with blue velvet, and his cloak draped over me like a blanket. His big gloved hand rested on my shoulder, casually pinning me down so that I couldn't move. Not that I wanted to move. I was rather comfy, actually.

Just resting my head on an unstable Fallen who could snap my neck with his bare hands. Comfy. 

"You fainted in the greenhouse," Death said in a gruff voice.

"I fainted, and then you carried me all the way here and wrapped your cloak around me? That's kind of romantic." I thought a playful smile might crack the irritated expression he'd loved wearing lately, but all it did was train his vicious gaze onto my mouth.

Clearly, he was in no mood for flirting. Glaring down at me, Death's striking green eyes were borderline mad, but at least they distracted me from the fact that my head was still on his freaking thigh. Was it weird to find a man's thigh hot? Definitely.

"You were dead," he growled, grinding out the words between his fangs. "Your scent changed. You were barely breathing, and I could barely find your pulse. I thought you were dead. Where the fuck did you go?"