Wilting Flowers

10: Face It.

Tw: Panic Attack/Implied Self Harm
Reader discretion advised

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The next morning, Grim awoke to the harsh screeching of his alarm. Although he had not had another nightmare, he was racked with an unsettling feeling he could only describe as an eerie emptiness. He never thought he would miss his usual flooding of emotions, but today, something was different.

He lay in bed, not even bothering to turn off the wretched noise assaulting his ears. He couldn't manage to will himself to his feet or even sit up to simply press a button on the damned alarm. Suddenly, his mind wandered to his father.

"Get up, Grim. You've got things to do."

Grim groaned.

"It's pointless. I'm just gonna fail and get my feelings hurt." He sighed, blankly.

"Bullshit. You worked yourself to tears to get to take this reaping course. I'm not letting you give up on the first day." Mortuus responded, leaning on Grim's door frame. "Get up. Now."

His father had to practically drag him out of bed on his first day in an actual reaping class. Now he was gone, the memory of him would have to suffice to fill the gaping hole where he once was.

Grim found himself ordering his body to take care of itself. Get up. Turn off the alarm. Walk to the bathroom. Take your meds. Good, now turn on the sink.

He willed himself to brush his teeth and somehow got dressed without any problems.

Go out to the kitchen.

On the kitchen counter there was a note in messy handwriting.

Hey Grim!
I just wanted to tell you that I'll be going to lunch with Luce tomorrow (or, by the time you read this, today.)! I don't know when I'll be back, so I wanted to make sure you knew. She'll pick me up, so don't worry about that.
ILY!! HAVE A GOOD DAY AT WORK!!<3

-Immy :D

Grim smiled before immediately shoving the feelings back down. No. I can't.

The day that followed wasn't really all that special. Empty greetings, empty consolation- Grim just wanted to be home. He couldn't figure out how he managed to feel nothing. He felt like a shell of a person- a consciousness without a soul.

When he did get home, however, he didn't feel much better. Just the same numbness.

Immy wasn't home yet.

He pulled off his gloves, walked to his bedroom, and shut the door. Grim practically crumpled to the floor, exhausted. The thoughts that should've normally rushed through his head simply weren't there. He was frustrated, to say the least. This never happened.

He scanned his memory, searching for some sign of what could have caused this. Then he remembered.

"Goddamnit." He muttered to himself. He thought back to his realization last night. He was in love. Utterly, undeniably in love with someone he could kill in an instant. Someone whose life would either drain away slowly or be abruptly cut off. Someone who was amazing, beautiful, creative, caring, witty- the list of compliments could go on and on.

Grim took a shaky breath in and let a sob out. He didn't know how badly he needed to cry before he did. He never truly processed the thought before he pushed it away from him. Now, he had to face it.

His breathing quickened.

Why am I always the one who has to fuck things up? Why can't I just be a regular person, fall in love with an immortal, and not make awful career choices? I could've gone to parties. Made stupid decisions that won't determine my entire immortality. I could've actually enjoyed my first time drinking. I could've given Dad a gift for his birthday this year. He was thinking faster than he could keep up, drowning in his own unspoken words.