A little doo-dad inspired by Halloween :). Enjoy…hopefully.

The Kiss of Death

By Crazywritings

"You…mff…you…you gonna fin'sh that vodka…?" Jade asked, pointing weakly at the bottle resting between my fingers. Her head bobbed up and down slightly as she tried to remain conscious. I blinked lazily at her, my vision getting a little bit blurry as I felt the alcohol spread through my system, a slight tingly feeling seizing my nerves. It felt so weird, but kind of trippy. I giggled.

"I dunno," I slurred. Jesus, my tongue was as heavy as a ton of bricks. "I ain't sure I c'n…t-take some…that…the…wait, what?"

"Gimmie that shit," my friend snarled, grabbing the large clear glass bottle. "We don' waste this kinda shit." And with that, she threw her head back and downed the contents. Damn, that girl knew how to drink. Her face went all scrunchy as the translucent liquid slid down into her stomach, and she quietly muttered "Shit," under her breath.

Really, I don't know why I was getting so hammered that night. On something I didn't even like. Vodka had never really been my thing, considering it felt like drinkable flame as it goes down your throat. I much preferred a good beer. But that wasn't happening at the time; though I can't remember why, all I remember is that getting trashed was the only thing on my mind, and that all the pain would go away as soon as I reached my goal.

Of course, sweet little naïve me had no clue what was to come.

"Unk," Jade moaned, and her head slammed against the table. Now that I think about it, I probably should have been more worried about the sound it made. Are skulls supposed to make a sickening crack when they connect with marble? Hmm…that's definitely something to look into.

But I didn't have time to ponder it…not that I would have even if I did have time. My brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders, you see. Anyway, cue the fatass frat boy stumbling through the room in a toga composed of a bedsheet. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but that shit was nasty. Let's just say that Tubby wasn't wearing any underwear, and the poor sheet just wasn't long enough to reach over his enormous stomach.

Beautiful sight, really. Now I'm scarred.

I was smart enough, even drunk, to realize that was our cue to leave. I wasn't sure of the boy's name, but I know it now. Tomas Sullen. Look him up in the paper for October 31, you'll be sure to find something, though it may not be something you'd want to see. But with heavy muscles, I pushed myself up out of my seat and staggered over to my friend. Somehow, my hand managed to find its way onto her ringlets of white blonde hair, and I gave a gentle tug. Well, at least I meant it to be a gentle tug. The way her head snapped to the side I was tugging may have suggested otherwise.

"Jade," I said. "Jade, I…I think w—we should…car…and drive it—drive it home…" Great idea, past self! Really, just awesome. You're completely shitfaced, so is your best friend, your car handles like you're driving a tree-trunk, yet it can easily cruise at 110 miles per hour, and you want to drive home. Sweet. Just…just great. Great decision.

Oh, and one more thing. HOW STUPID COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE?! I swear, I've never wanted to suffocate Past-Me as much as I do now. I mean, I've got regrets, but never has a bigger mistake been made. If I could bitch-slap me, I so would have.

"Mm," she sighed. "Kay,"

Thanks, Jade. It's comforting to know that I'm not the only dipshit.

We stood and headed for the front door. I suppose "headed" was a nice way of putting "staggering toward the exit, nearly falling face-first over your own two feet." I'm sure we can all agree that the first sounds much better. Everyone was wasted beyond belief, so it's not as if we were a rare commodity at the Halloween party. Cackles nearly blew my eardrums, loud music shook my skull, and my teeth rattled thanks to the hoots and hollers of my friends. How is that fun, you ask? You need to be mature to understand it (meaning I can't find a reason that it's fun).

Just before the exit, I stuck my head in the doorway that lead down to the basement.

"JASON!" I hollered. "JADE AND ME IS…ARE…uh…OUT!" There was no response, but I didn't need one; the couch was partly visible from where I was standing, and I could see my other best friend, Jason Sullivan, smothering a blonde bimbo with his body, mouth, and crotch. I guess you could say that he was a little busy, considering her shirt and bra were off, and his own T-Shirt was hanging uselessly on the arm of the loveseat.

"BYE, JASON BABY!" Jade shrieked.

"Mm," he groaned, tilted his head to the side more, and attempted to eat the girl's face. Blondie must've thought it was meant for her because she threw her legs around his waist, but we knew it was meant as a distracted good-bye for us. I felt Jade disappear, but I hesitated for a moment. My attention couldn't deviate from his particularly compromised state. His raven hair was sticking up erratically, still in the process of being messed up by Blondie's fingers, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were skillfully treating her to an extremely talented make-out session. It was clear that he was sober; he couldn't have been as attentive to detail with his tongue as he was at that moment if his head was fogged with booze.

Something tugged in my heart. I didn't understand it at the time, but I cringed against it and continued out the front door.

I know what it was now. How I wish I stayed at Jason's house.

My feet slipped and stumbled along the stone walkway, carrying me to my small, sleek car. Jade was leaning against the passenger side with her head rested against the silver paint job as she stared at the winking stars in the black velvet sky. They reflected delicately in her amber orbs, and I could see that her brain was totally emptied at the time, its contents replaced with vodka tonics and gin-and-rums.

"You drive," she grumbled. "I'm too…too…uh—"

"Got it," I said as I staggered along the hood of the vehicle toward the driver's side. First, my fingers fumbled with the lock button on my key, and once that had been taken care of, I fumbled with the handle on the door. A couple of swears fell from my lips, but I cared not. I swore like a truck driver. Everyone was used to it.

We both practically fell into the leather interior instead of sliding in gracefully, like girls are supposed to do. I felt my super-short black mini-dress slip up my thighs a bit too much, but that pretty much went unnoticed at the time. It wasn't nearly as bad as breaking a heel or something, so I let it go.

"You—you sure yo-you're good?" Jade slurred.

"I'm f-fi-fi-f—fi-fine," I responded vehemently. That should've been enough to tell us both that we were in absolutely NO condition to be outside a house, let alone on the road driving. But of course, we were eighteen, we were young, we had wheels, and we were totally shitfaced. Arguing would've been pointless anyway.

It took me a couple of tries to get the metal key inside the ignition, but eventually it glided in easily, like it should have. I turned it like I was starting a lawnmower, but the thing started anyway, despite my over-active forcefulness. With a gentle purr of the engine, we were screaming down the windy road in seconds.

The dark was as thick as paint, I tell you. And Jesus, my foot was a little heavy that night. I may as well have had a keg taped to my toes. My foot, man, my foot was pressing down on the gas like speed was nothing. There were no whizzing trees, no howling wind, now flying leaves—everything was a blur. Yet again, that should've been enough to tell me that I should stop. That the break was on the left. That the road had ninety-degree turns, impossible bends, and excessive speed-bumps. But yet again, common sense was lost. A giddy laugh escaped my lungs as I urged the pedal further down and begged for the world to whip by me. Faster. Faster. Faster, please. Exhilaration burned in my intestines like the vodka that impaired me in the first place.

We were almost clear. We were almost on the vacant main street. We almost made it to the wide open space of the four-laned road that was as straight as a string and positively empty, considering it was three in the morning. I didn't know it then, but all that rang through my head was "home-free." It wasn't me that pushed even more on the gas; at least, that's what I like to think. Anxiousness did it. The need to be free and unpressured and safer washed through my entirety. Once more, my foot was heavy and generous with demands.

I didn't even see it. The sharp bend in the road was stupid anyway, but not as stupid as I was. Boy, was I stupid. There it was, the wall of trees, illuminated in my blinding headlights. It greeted the tiny car like it was waiting for it, with branches for arms that were spread wide open and welcoming. The jump was almost non-existent. Only a flying sensation tingled in my tummy. I didn't even feel the crash, the crumple of metal, the cry of electronics being tortured, the sickening crack of our bodies. All I felt was a short burst of pain, and then darkness swallowed me.

Everything snapped back quickly. Reality rushed to my eyes the second they opened. I suppose I use "eyes" loosely, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I jolted into a sitting position, abruptly alert. Something wasn't right. I could feel it. Then, upon second thought, I realized I couldn't feel anything. Nothing belonged to me. I glanced down and found all in order; my dress was tight around my long legs, my chest burst against the low neckline of the strapless dress, my waist was small and enclosed perfectly in the clingy material, and my feet were encased in glossy black pumps. So why couldn't I feel anything?!

"Gorgeous," a deep voice said softly. I started, and my head flung back to catch who spoke. A beautiful guy stood above me, leaning casually against the bark of a tree. At the time, I hadn't noticed or cared much, but I'd apparently been moved, because I was now in the forest instead of on the road where my car had been dragged back to.

He really was quite attractive. His hair was a dark chestnut and perfectly messy, his skin was practically white, and everything about him was flawless. From his build, which was clad in a long black robe, to the line of his nose and high cheekbones, I couldn't find one mistake that God may have made. But his eyes choked me. Picture the grey of the thin layer of clouds that coat the sky on a gloomy day, and you'll have his shocking irises. There was no trace of any other color in their depths, simply a brilliant, bright grey.

The guy (I say guy because he seemed to be neither a man nor a boy; he was no older than twenty-one) glanced down at me and smirked at my questioning look.

"If you're looking for a word to describe yourself," he elaborated with a voice as soft as satin. "The word would be gorgeous." I didn't say anything. I continued to gaze up at him as he looked back to the wreckage on the pavement about ten yards away from us. He simply stared, face expressionless and his arms folded across his chest.

After a few beats of silence, I decided to speak up. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

He didn't move. He didn't acknowledge that I spoke. The only hint that he'd heard what I said was that his features altered the tiniest bit, suddenly containing a wisp of amusement.

"Um…who are you again?" I asked. His previous smirk returned, but this time, his teeth flashed from beneath his chalky lips. They were glorious, a fine, paper white and stick straight.

"You can stand up, you know," he said as his gaze flickered down to me once again. An uncertain cloud came over my face.

"Uh, I'm not so sure…" I responded. "I can't really…feel anything…" My nose scrunched up as I confessed the last part. It was true; the sensation was incredibly uncomfortable, and I was having a hard time dealing with it.

He turned fully towards me, exchanging his lean on his shoulder for a lean on his back as he pressed his shoulder blades against the tree this time, and his cloudy eyes locked with mine.

"You don't trust me?" he dead-panned. My heart jumped a little at the tone of his gentle voice; it wasn't menacing, but more intense, like it was matching his stare. A chill spread over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Of course I do," I whispered. What was I saying? I hardly knew this guy, and I was saying I trusted him? Wait, he didn't answer my question when I asked who he was. That's a bit sketchy, no? I was a bit creeped out, at least.

Uh, DUH! I could be so stupid, honestly.

The guy grinned at me. "How readily you pledge your loyalty," he quietly mused, seemingly speaking my thoughts. Then, he knelt down to my level as he said, "Tell me, love," and he slipped a hand past a sheet of my hair and cupped my cheeks.

"Do you trust me because of my looks?" His orbs were mere inches from me, and I'd never been more hypnotized. A kickball-sized shimmering diamond couldn't hold an ADD child's attention more than his stormy gaze held mine. It seemed like if I reached out and dipped my finger in his irises, they would ripple and glisten, like a dark sky reflected in a puddle.

Of course I did no such thing. I may be strange, but trying to stick your finger in someone's eyeball…even I don't do that.

"I…" I couldn't speak. My tongue weighed as much as it did when I was drunk, though I was pointedly sober now, and my jaw bounced up and down uselessly. But his gaze didn't lessen; if anything, it intensified. Electricity passed between us, and I could practically hear the crackling. My limbs refused to move.

"How human," he breathed, nearly inaudible, as his boring stare backed down. His fingers grazed along my skin until they just barely touched my chin, and he began to stand. My body helplessly followed suit, and I was fully erect now. But even at my full height, I only reached his collarbone. His height intimidated me, but only to a point.

"Huh?" I panted, having not regained my full composure. "What do you mean, how human?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. He didn't say anything more; he just continued to hold my chin in his fingertips and stare at me, not caring that it was strange.

I pulled my face out of his grasp. "Okay, who the hell are you?" He smiled, but cruelly this time.

"Take care in how you use 'hell'," he cautioned. But still, he didn't answer my question.

"You're not answering my question," I responded stubbornly, my arms crossing themselves. His grin fell off of his face instantaneously, only to be replaced by a critical frown.

"You will not like the answer," he replied so softly that it seemed as though his lips only moved and no sound left his throat. The molten grey of his eyes suddenly hardened into steel.

"I don't care," I snapped. "You're freaking me out."

"You will 'freak out' more if I tell you."

"I'll freak out all over you if you don't tell me."

"I'm afraid you will hate me if I tell you."

"Well, I'm sure getting to that point right now." His lips tightened. A tiny roil of regret squirmed inside me, but I fervently ignored it.

"Indeed," he hissed quietly. He closed his eyes briefly, but then they snapped open and burned into mine once again. And it felt as though my legs had spontaneously combusted once again.

It was astounding, the effect this guy had on me.

"Please, try to be calm," he implored. I nodded numbly, and he continued. "I…I am Death."

There was a breath of utter silence.

"What?" I mouthed.

"I'm Death." He said again. My eyelids blinked slowly, trying to grapple with what he just told me.

"No…" I refused to believe it. "No…no way…I'm not dead…I can't be dead…"

"Don't drink and drive," he offered humorlessly.

"No way," I said more vehemently. "I'm not dead. You're just some crazy freak that's trying to scare me." My voice climbed higher and higher and grew louder and louder with each word. His face didn't change. He just stood across from me, stance guarded.

"You said you trusted me," he reminded me.

"I lied."

"No you didn't."

"First of all, yes I did. And second of all, even if I did, you wouldn't have known."

"Death knows what the dead feel." His eyes were icy as he stared at me.

"Stop looking at me like that," I sighed angrily, planting my fingertips to my forehead. "There's got to be some sort of explanation."

"Oh, there is," he said. "It's called Grey Goose Vodka."

"Shut up," I snarled. "And I said stop looking at me like that."

He was silent as I paced back and forth, muttering things about 'stupid Halloween' and 'insane fuck-ups.'

"Really, you're language is quite appalling," he commented, stance relaxing as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"You're not helping," I growled. Then, I glanced up swiftly, and screamed with all the air in my lungs, "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

"Blaine, calm down!" he grabbed my shoulders in his hands, and a spasm of shivers rolled down my spine. Not only were his hands as strong as vices, but they felt as if they'd been locked in a freezer. There was a certain fear factor to them, but that only made me angrier. Granted, it was more of a quiet anger, now that he was glaring at me instead of merely looking at me, but it was boiling.

"You're telling me I'm dead, and you have the nerve to say calm down?" I sneered. "And don't call me Blaine."

He sighed. "Blaine, that's your name."

"I know it's my name! I'm not stupid!"

"Well, what would you like me to call you? That Dead Girl That Got Killed in the Car Crash?"

"Gee, your sarcasm is hysterical."

"If you'd be reasonable, there would be no need for sarcasm." There was no fury in his voice. In fact, the enjoyment was plain on his face as he tried to force back a smile and his pearl-colored eyes glistened.

"Can you stop taking joy in this?!" I yelled, tugging out from beneath his strong hands. "I'm dead, and you're over there giggling?"

"Now you're exaggerating," he smirked, an eyebrow flicking upward. "I have not giggled once. Nor have I laughed. Nor have I chuckled or guffawed or snickered or—"

"URG, really?" I balled my fingers into fists. "You're really making a joke? How does Death have a sense of humor?"

"I didn't," he answered right away, expression quickly melting from amusement to absolute seriousness. "Until I met you, I had no idea what humor was."

"I met you two seconds ago," I said, venom dripping from my words. He smiled humorlessly.

"Literally speaking, yes," he said. "But I've been…watching you, I suppose you could say, for much longer." It was such a strange sensation; I knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. The breath before he spoke, I already knew what was coming. If I'd wanted to, I would have mouthed the words with him. But not only was I frozen, but I didn't want to look like a tool.

Such a silly desire, you'd think, for the kind of situation I was in, right? Yeah. I know. That's just the way I am. Or was…I'll get back to you on that.

"I've kept tabs on you since I came for your mother fourteen years ago," Death continued, his eyes critically taking in my reaction. But there was none to be had. I was sort of mutely stunned into silence, my face blank, as I just stared at him.

It was his fault. It was him. He took my mother away. He made her leave me. Sure, say it was the cancer if you want. But really, it was him. She didn't have to go. He could have left her. She could have held me one more time. She could have brushed my hair, drove me to school, sang me to sleep, kissed my nose, laughed my favorite laugh, and bake my favorite brownies one more time.

I could have said goodbye.

It was him.

"It's your fault," I whispered, my features never changing. His beautiful orbs narrowed slightly, sensing my rising anger and despair as I soundlessly willed myself to hurt him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to feel everything that I'd felt as I stood beside my mother's grave.

"You know as well as I do that I had nothing to do with it," he said quietly, a sympathetic shadow hovering over his brow. A retort formed on my tongue, but I never got the chance to say it. The squeal of tires behind me caught my attention more forcefully than I could've believed. A car door slam was what made me turn, though.

"Blaine!" someone howled. Curious, I moved silently through the woods, like a ninja. When I look back now, I always laugh. How many times had I called myself a ninja when I did something really cool or skilled, and then there I was, ghosting along through the short stretch of forest before reaching the road? It seems kind of stupid now, but if I had been calm enough to note the fact, I would have taken advantage of it.

"Oh God, no, Blaine!" the same voice shouted. When I finally emerged from the trees, I saw a severely distraught boy kneeling by a girl sprawled out on the cement. He was very handsome, with raven-colored unruly hair, slightly tanned skin, and shockingly bright grass-green eyes. The same eyes swam with tears shamelessly hovering on his dark lashes. I didn't even look at the girl. It was probably because I knew what I was going to see, and I didn't want to see it. But the boy was all I could think of.

"Jason?" I wondered aloud. Cautiously, my feet carried me closer, hoping to get me a better look. He didn't seem to notice me at all, so I crouched next to the body across him. My peripheral vision glimpsed the stunning black dress, pale-ish skin, and glossy tendrils, but I ignored them.

"Blaine, no, please," Jason sobbed as he lifted the—or I guess it was my—head into his lap. "Please Blaine, don't do this, please."

"Jason, what are you talking about?" I hissed. "I'm right here. Don't piss yourself." My lame attempt to lighten the situation went by unnoticed.

"Please, don't leave me," he cried, tears making their way forcefully down his cheeks. "I need you. I need you."

"Jason, stop." My voice cracked with the tears that were glazing my own skin now. "I'm right here; I'm right across from you. See me, Jason! Why can't you see me?"

"I love you, Blaine," choked Jason. "I love you. I've always loved you. Please, just give me a chance, please, come back."

"Jason…" I couldn't speak any louder than a whisper. In fact, I couldn't talk at all. The words were there; the three words he desperately needed and I desperately wanted to say were perched on my lips, ready to fall. So why couldn't I say it?

Instead, my hand fluttered to his wrist. As I went to grab it, my fingers passed right through him. I couldn't gather my wits enough to shriek.

"Son, she's dead," a paramedic said coldly, approaching the two (or three?) of us. "We need to bag her."

"No," Jason wailed, stroking my hair with a shaking hand. "She's not dead. She can't be dead. I love her." The man sighed irritably and shoved him aside. He didn't fight back; he just flopped onto the pavement, supporting his upper body with his arms, watching helplessly as they towed the body away. I crawled over to him.

"Jason," I breathed. I don't think I'd ever said his name so much in my life. "I'm right here." But he didn't acknowledge me. He just cried silently. Something settled on the crown of my head and pressed gently as it dragged down the back of my skull.

"I'm sorry," a voice softly whispered. It was instantly recognizable.

"Why can't he see me?" I demanded with a quavering tone.

"I think you know why," he answered. He was right; I did know why. But that didn't mean I had to admit it.

"This isn't fair."

"I know. I agree."

"Then leave me here!" I snarled, snapping my head back to glare at him. "Let me live. Give me back to my body. Jason…Jason needs me! I need Jason. Just let me freaking live!"

"I can't do that."

"Why not?!"

"Because it's never fair." Death's voice didn't grow louder or softer, but it did harden a bit, like he was talking to a child. "Do you think I like taking lives, Blaine? Do you think I chose this? Do you think I like watching people sob and cry and have their heart broken? Well, I don't, so you'd best rethink that. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you. The only person I've ever been glad to see die is you, and there won't ever be another!"

A long moment of silence passed between us. If my heart was still beating, it would've been hammering against my ribcage. I didn't understand what he meant by he hadn't chosen this, and that he didn't like it. None of that made sense to me. I wouldn't have expected Death to have a heart, but it seemed he did, and I didn't understand that either. There were a bunch of things that I just didn't understand, but for some strange reason, they weren't the most important things to me at that moment. Common sense wasn't exactly with me at the time; if I tell you what I said, I'm sure you'd say "what the fuck?!"

I'm not going to tell you what I said.

No, it's too stupid.

Please, don't make me tell.

…Okay fine.

"What do you mean, you were glad to see me die?" I asked, my eyes wide. Shut up, I know it's stupid. Okay, so it's not real stupid, but shouldn't I have been a little more concerned with the fact that Death just admitted that he didn't like killing people, and that he did have some sort of a heart? Well, I wasn't.

"Um," Death floundered. His cheeks would have been red…you know, if he had blood, that is. "I…I was…I mean…"

"You said you were glad to see me die," I pressed. "What did you mean?"

"It's not important," he mumbled, turning his face away from me. I scooched forward so that I could see his profile, forgetting Jason and my body and the paramedics for a moment.

"It's not important?" I mocked. "You say you're happy to see me kick the bucket, and that's just not important? Really?"

"I don't want to tell you," he said, voice turning to steel to match his eyes. I didn't care.

"I don't care. Tell me."

Suddenly, his eyes turned to smoke. "Please, don't make me tell." His orbs widened to epic proportions, begging me, pleading me.

"You can tell me," I responded to his desperation, my face slipping into a sympathetic and soothing expression. Death stared at me, and I could see the internal war raging in his gaze as he flitted between acquiesce and defiance. I wanted to grab his hair and shake him, demanding he tell me.

Wow, I was pretty violent! But my nerves were a little ravaged, as if yours wouldn't be. Hello, I was dead. I thought I was taking it pretty well! I'd never been the type to really flip out over things. I'd stress, but I'd never freak out.

Not even being told I was dead could make me snap. Old habits die hard, I guess.

Finally, he sighed heavily. I sensed his resolve dissipating, and my lungs curled in anticipation as my hand found its way upon his. This time, I wasn't shocked by the icy temperature of his skin. It felt normal now.

"Please?" I whispered. That was all he needed. He stared at me with those melting, flaming grey eyes, practically choking me, but I listened intently and refused to be distracted.

"Well, I'm afraid my declaration won't be as dramatic or touching as his," Death flicked his chin to his right. My attention grazed over in that direction, and Jason's drenched face met my wandering eye. He looked so beautiful, his emerald eyes glistening with tears, his cheeks streaked in salty water, his hair erratic, his chest heaving as he sobbed. Why hadn't I noticed him before? Why hadn't I noticed that my friend—no, my best friend—loved me more than anyone? More than should have been possible? More than either of us could explain?

And why hadn't I noticed that I loved him just as much?

It took some effort, but I kept my face as emotionless as possible as my insides screamed for Jason. I actually had to remind myself to listen to the guy speaking to me. But it seems that he'd stopped. I turned back to him, and his face was torn, a mask of sadness and knowledge.

"Well, this isn't helpful," he mumbled as his focus flitted from my face, to Jason's, and back to mine. "But Blaine, I…I love you, too."

I stared. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched on forever.

"Blaine?" he finally broke the quiet with a cracking yet satiny voice.


"Blaine?" he said more forcefully. I think he was afraid he'd stunned me into permanent shock.

Well, that wouldn't be a bad guess!

"Blaine, please answer me," he pleaded, hands racing to my cheeks. Their cool temperature seeped through me and cracked through my stupor, but I still didn't completely process it right away.

"You…you what?" I choked.

"I love you." His tone was solemn, absolute, just like his expression. Breath (can the dead breathe? I think so, considering I was freaking panting) ripped through my respiratory system in quick bursts, making my upper torso ache with the effort. I was dead for crying out loud. I shouldn't have such…such human reactions!

"Is that…is that like, even—even possible?" I implored. Surely the way I ogled at him brought the smirk back upon his face.

"It doesn't matter," he said bitterly. "But yes, it's possible. I was human once, you know. Some emotions still linger, however deeply buried. There's only one person for me, and you're the lucky winner." Sarcasm had seeped into his voice at the end, and his eyes shimmered sadly.

"There's someone for Death?" I asked, ignoring his sneer. He shrugged a small shrug.

"There's someone out there for everyone," he answered. Apparently he saw the question on my face, because he continued with, "Trust me on this. I am Death, and, though unpleasant, I am a god, and I do know how the universe works. Even gods get a shot."

I blinked, trying to put my thoughts together. "So…I'm…for you?"

A mournful smile graced his face this time. "I can feel your emotions, Blaine. I can feel how you feel for Jason, and the lack of what you feel for me." His gaze lowered as his hands slipped from my face and into his lap, his legs folded neatly Indian-style beneath his body.

As much as I wanted to argue, he was right. I felt nothing. No reaction to his proclamation, no reaction to the thought of us together…nothing. Empty. It was like a barren desert. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't will anything into existence, and I had no clue why. I mean, he was gorgeous. Seriously, if you could've seen him, you would agree. Move over Brad Pitt, Robert Pattinson, George Clooney, Orlando Bloom, whoever—he was thousands of times more handsome than all of them put together. There really was no comparison. So why couldn't I get anything? Why couldn't I react at all?

Then, an idea struck me right in the ol' noggin. Without hesitation, I leaned in and pressed my lips to Death's.

Of course, they were as freezing as his hands. In fact, maybe they were a little colder; they probably hadn't been touched in forever. But, surprisingly enough, that didn't bother me. It was actually very nice—his outright shock was both adorable and fun. Through my closed eyes, I could practically see his stormy orbs grow ten times their original size, yet hypnotic nonetheless. But the lurch I felt in my chest was what jolted me. It was like a fierce wind kicked up in the empty cavity, swirling my emotions together and tossing them up in the air, jumbling them around. I couldn't decipher them for a moment. For a bit, I couldn't distinguish one from another. But soon, one feeling became very prominent: affection. There it was, beaming brighter than anything I knew could ever exist. It had been there all along, but no one had awakened it until now. It rumbled through my body and urged my arms around his neck and my mouth to open.

It didn't take long for him to respond. He jumped at the opportunity given, locking his hands around my waist as quickly as he could, and his tongue slid into my mouth the second my lips parted. It was natural. Simply natural. His cool breath filled my head, and I felt myself begin to sway. We clutched each other closer for support.

His hand released my hip and pushed gently at my cheek, causing me to pull back. We were panting. His breath blew once again across my face, sending chills down my spine and along my legs, but it felt so good I can't even describe it.

"You mean it," he whispered, stroking a strand of hair out of my eyes. "You…you really mean it." My gaze roved over his face hungrily, like I was seeing him for the first time. In a sense, I was; I'd never seen him through the eyes of a lover (I suppose that's what you could call me). I crushed my mouth to his once again, and he reacted instantaneously this time, winding one arm around my waist again while his other hand roamed my thigh.

"I love you," he hissed against me, not breaking contact.

"I love you, too," I breathed quickly in response.

A great white light swallowed us.

Yeah, a girl falls in love with Death. Cute, huh? Well, I like it :).

Remember children, don't drink or do drugs!