One of the oldest Spirits, the Grim Reaper, likes to keep a low profile. The Grim Reaper knows everything there is to know about each and every of the Spirits and Guardians. The Grim Reaper thinks it'll stay like this, lonely and quiet, until she op...
[please try and give questions for an end of the book Q&A. . i can't believe the story'll be ending soon, it feels like i started it so short ago, but i still have about 12 more chapters! and y'all are too nice complimenting me and shit uwu]
Jack had somehow persuaded Y/n into getting into the water with him. Not even she knew what happened, but Y/n was still pouting nonetheless.
"See, it's not that bad."
"I'm getting out as soon as I get cold. Plus, how are we supposed to dry off?"
"Sit it out, maybe."
. . .
Jack and Y/n were back to walking again, clothes dried after 10 hours. They had gotten out and laid on the ground, Y/n making sure to stay far away from Jack, and fallen asleep.
"Don't your feet hurt?" Jack asked. They were still trying to find a way out, but still no luck.
"No. I've worn these for two thousand years straight."
"So, uh, what can you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"When you were fighting the Mock of Cupid earlier, you turned into black smoke."
"Mhm."
"I didn't know you could do that."
"Okay."
Jack furrowed his eyebrows, "Brat."
Y/n nudged him hard, "And you're nosy."
"What?" He gasped, "How?"
"And it'd only be expected, since you're the Guardian of Fun, that you can't handle some realities."
"Like what?"
"The fact that I'm never going to talk to you after this." Y/n spat out.
Jack looked hurt, "You still haven't changed your mind?"
"Look, maybe I'll help out, but I am never going to be a Guardian. I like being the one in the shadows, watching."
"That sounds like Pitch."
"I'm not like Pitch, and you know that."
"Well maybe with what you're saying, you're being an awful lot like him."
Y/n squinted her eyes, "What're you trying to get at?"
"Just what I said!"
"Then clearly you've listened to nothing I've said! Gosh, I can't stand you!" Y/n flew off, far, far away from Jack.
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Jack could only stand there. Did he regret his choice of words? After all, she was the one who started this. Or maybe he shouldn't have called her a brat.
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