Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Eight

He turned back to me, his expression serious and unimpressed. "Obedience can be taught."

I laughed, slowly because I wasn't totally sure if I found this all funny or not. "Seriously dude, I'm not like that. I'm not even into... you know."

He raised an eyebrow. "Into..."

Was I wrong? Somehow everything the man said sounded... not platonic. The way he said it, the voice... No, I was pretty sure I knew what he was getting at. "You know, I'm... more into being a top. And I like it vanilla in any case-"

There was a spark of humour in his eyes as he looked away from me before he spoke with absolute security. "I'm not asking. Your fate has been decided for you. Your wishes do not matter."

I stared at him, frozen half in surprise and half in tired confusion. "I- What?"

He sighed, but the sound coming from him sounded a growl.

He sat down on the sofa beside me and I inched away from him because no matter how impossible sexy the man was he was also intimidating as fuck. Something to do with the the unflinching confidence with which he spoke every word, the bizarre darkness that twisted around his cloak, or the fact that he was the Grim Reaper.

"You were born with the other half of my soul, you too have only one half of your soul. Your death is undetermined because you will not die until I cease to exist and a new Death is born to replace me. You exist to serve me. I am your master."

I am your master.

The words rang out inside me and I felt something unlock in me that made me feel nervous and trapped. Part of me wanted to inch closer and another part wanted to run and burn down everything behind me, a dramatic emotion of anxiety I didn't remember ever having felt before

I raised my hands. "Wait." I took a deep breath. "Explain... everything. I need context for everything you just said."

"Angels are born with either no soul or half a soul and their fated ones, the ones born to serve them and be for them are born with the other half of their soul or with the whole soul."

I just stared at him.

I wasn't slow. I got what he was saying. He was saying I was born with the other half of his soul and therefor I had to serve him for some reason.

Serve Death?

I didn't even have the words in my head to reply to that proposition. It was so preposterous all I could come up with was; Fat chance.

I scoffed. "I'm sorry buddy. I think I'll have to skip on that endeavour."

He stared at me in surprise. "What?"

I waved my hands. "I mean I have a job and friends and stuff, I really don't have time to be your slave or anything. Sorry about that. Not sure I really want to be around rotting people anyway."

He narrowed his eyes and I saw that sliver of something dark slip into his gaze.

"You are already drawn to them. How do you think you found me in the pitch black night in the middle of a graveyard? What were you doing, plucking daisies?"

I shook my head slowly. "I was drunk. I went there because I was drunk and... I don't know, we were trick or treating."

He laughed a low taunting laugh. "I saw no friends. Unless you mean the rotting body of Prewett. You were alone, the only person to find yourself in that graveyard, or in any case the only person to stay. And when you saw my form cloaked in the distance. Did you run? Did you hide? Did you even walk away?"