Sunlight shone through the window when I opened my eyes. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to focus. I was no longer burning. I felt fine, except for the smell of my sweaty body. That bothered me.
When I moved my hands, I detected skin. I turned my head and found Rowan sitting on the ground, his head leaning against the bed frame, and his right hand lying on the top edge of the bed.
Boldly, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Rowan, wake up. It's morning already." I said.
While I kept squeezing and shaking his hand, I realized he must have cared for me the whole night. His white shirt was unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up. His honey-blond hair was messy and turned to every side.
With my other hand, I brushed the back of my hand against his cheek. His skin was soft to the touch like it was made out of cotton.
When I brushed my hand multiple times against his cheek, he slowly began to wake up. His head rose, looking a bit confused, like he forgot where he was staying.
I greeted him with a smile, even though I must have looked extremely horrible. My hair was greasy, and my body was sweaty from the fever.
Oh yes, the high fever I had. Rowan was so kind and even changed me into my pajamas. He totally saw me naked-
"Did you see MINE? And MINE!!" I threw my hands like a maniac on my breasts and down on my intimate part.
"WHAT?" I heard Rowan shout at me for the first time. For some reason, I thought angels couldn't get angry. "Of course, I didn't." He claimed.
"Then how is it that I'm not in my old clothes?" I demanded.
Rowan sighed and roamed his fingers through his messy hair. My gaze wandered to his open shirt for a second.
"Your grandma changed your clothes, not me. I was waiting outside your room."
Oh.
Ohh.
I facepalmed myself, and I could feel the heat form on my cheeks. At that moment, I wished Death would just take my soul and save me from this embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry. I always assume the worst." I burst out. "Stay for lunch," I added, moving my gaze to my hands as I couldn't keep looking into his eyes.
Rowan chuckled in his low voice. His hand landed on top of mine. I snapped my head at him and met his gorgeous, full smile. His teeth were sharp and snow-white.
"Is this your way of apologizing?" He asked.
"Kind of?" I laughed it off. I still have huge holes in my communication skills, and I mean enormous.
"I still don't understand how you got so sick. Today you'll stay in bed for the whole day."
No matter how much trust I put in him, I couldn't bring myself to tell him that Death came and made me this sick. I'd have to admit I took my pendant off, and I really didn't want to get scolded by Rowan.
"Ohh, and I talked to your boss already, and he said you can have a day off," Rowan said, and that brought me back to reality from my thoughts.
With such a beautiful smile, he, of course, persuaded my boss to give me a day off. But when I asked him for a vacation, that wasn't possible. Unfair.
"I don't know how to thank you properly for helping me. Not just with my fever, but with Death as well."
I know he's an Angel, so he's obligated to help those in need, but nevertheless, I still wanted to thank him. Do people thank him when he helps them? Or is he only helping me?
YOU ARE READING
SCYTHE
Paranormal𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢! This is a story about the Grim Reaper and a twenty-year-old girl named Vivienne, and how they met on a random Tuesday night at the graveyard. Vivienne has had bad luck stuck to her feet since the day...