A Flair For Dramatics

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That was easy, entirely too easy if I say so myself. My job is honored and respected, only the best of the best could ever hope to take on my role, yet this has all been quite boring. There are only so many ways to enjoy reaping before it becomes monotonous and a bit tedious. Get a description and location, find the target, kill the target most likely in their sleep, return to the compound with proof and report to my Family Head, go home, repeat. The only reason I can't exactly slack off on my job is if I fail to complete my job on time, I will essentially be fired, though there's more to it.

I'm greeted with a bow as I enter the gates to my family's compound, making me internally sigh at the formality. This family's dynamic is a bit more formal than most others that I've caught glances of. It's just how things have always been. I make my way up the cobblestone path through the center of the compound leading to the Family Head's home humming a tune under my breath. I'm greeted at the doors by her attendants who lead me into her office while taking my 'proof of success' from my hand. It's rather morbid, but unless specified by the one who submitted the request, my targets lose their heads for proof. They're already dead at that point, so no harm no foul, eh?

I remove my hood then bow at the waist before the Family Head and wait for her to dismiss it before straightening again. The attendants briefly show her my proof before they are dismissed from the room. Once the doors close her dark grey eyes focus on me.

"You did well Reaper."

"Thank you Mother."

"Were you seen?"

"No, I encountered no one."

Mother sorts through some papers before informing me that at this time my tasks are completed, but I must return tonight for my next job. I thank her again and dismiss myself. I'd very much like to return home and bathe away the filth of working.

My cottage is settled not too far outside of the compound's walls in a small forest. Mother wasn't fond of me being outside of the protection considering my rank, but within certain parameters, Reapers are granted one request after their appointment. No one else had ever requested to live outside of the compound so they were unable to deny it. The cottage was constructed shortly after that, once we compromised with me being within five minutes of the gates. Since my appointment, I also took on an attendant, which isn't uncommon amongst the Reapers. My choice was frowned upon since they're always directly related to the main family, but my choice isn't related at all. Roman was an orphan taken in when I was a child and we became friends as we were trained in to a Level Four, until I was promoted to Reaper.

I enter my cottage to find Roman sprawled out across the couch with an open book resting on his face. I remove my boots and cloak at the door, followed by my array of weapons onto the side table, then knock Roman's leg off the couch as I pass by, waking him up.

"What the Hell was that for!? Give a man a heart attack I swear."

"That would simply mean I'm doing my job, eh?"

"Until my name is in that creepy lady's little black book I am not your target, Reez."

"Hm, what a shame. I'm sure your time is quickly approaching." I hum with a small smirk as I study our food supply. "I'm hungry. Cook something while I take a bath."

"Anything else you request? I am but a simple humble servant unworthy of your presence after all." He drones dramatically as he gets to his feet and stretches.

"If you'd rather go back to simply being a Level Four then by all means go for it. I just thought you'd enjoy being my attendant more."

"I'd rather not be back under Jael's jurisdiction, as bored as I am. I thought being the Reaper's attendant would be fun and exciting, instead I am wasting away in this prison as a mere chef and maid!"

"Could you be any more dramatic, eh? I feel like you would do well in theatrics."

"Actors don't attract women like being a thieving bad boy does." He explains as he leans against the counter and winks at me.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "I've yet to see you have any woman come to beg to be at your side. Besides, I thought you didn't care for genders?"

"Well yes, I care more for other things than what is hiding beneath the clothes, but being an actor still doesn't garner much interest regardless." His 'smoldering' expression fades into an annoyed pout before he shoos me away to clean up. I hear him mumble something under his breath as I leave the room but all I can catch is a mention of me. It must be complaints of me annoying him. Perhaps I'll bring him along with me on my next assignment or let him take on one of his own.

I wake from my three hour nap and dress in comfortable fighting clothing before sneaking into Roman's room. He's asleep still, his head hanging off to the left of the bed with his body stretched out diagonally across the mattress. How attractive. I grab one of his hands and start to pull until he slips off the bed onto the floor. His icy blue eyes flick open and focus on me with murderous intent before I'm unceremoniously knocked to the floor.

"You really, really want to die today, don't you Reez?" He growls.

"Not any more than most days, I suppose." I shrug, unbothered by his intimidation. "You are, however, late for our training. Don't forget, I have to meet at Mother's tonight. There's no telling what I'm going to have to do so I have to be prepared."

"I have a better idea. I weigh so much more than you, so I'll be nice and let you train by me using your body as a pillow as I go back to sleep. If you can free yourself, then I'll get up and kick your ass. If not, I get a nap out of it."

"You're the worst attendant ever." I sigh as I'm crushed beneath him.

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