Grim (BL)

A Mortal Man's Promise

Azreal stood in the silence, the air thick with uncertainty. The night stretched around him, echoing with the ghost of Grim's presence. A chill crept into his bones as he replayed their last moments together, the weight of Grim's truth pressing down on him like an oppressive fog.

Could he truly shoulder this burden? The power and the curse intertwined, an unsettling weight that filled him with dread. Yet the thought of abandoning Grim, of letting the church extinguish the light they had kindled together, ignited a flicker of rebellion in his heart.

As he made his way through the winding streets, memories of their time together flashed through his mind: the way Grim's laughter felt like a warm embrace, how their shared glances held unspoken promises of love and loyalty. Protecting Death itself seemed absurd, yet the depth of his feelings only fueled his resolve. He chuckled softly, a mix of amusement and determination bubbling up within him.

Reaching the city square, he leaned against the fountain, the cool stone grounding him as he contemplated his next move. The church loomed in the distance, a constant reminder of the danger that lay ahead.

Suddenly, a woman approached, her presence unassuming yet oddly familiar. "Azreal," she called, urgency threading through her voice.

"Who are you?" he demanded, eyes narrowing. "What do you want?"

"I'm Liora," she replied, stepping into the light. "I've been looking for you."

He crossed his arms, suspicion gnawing at him. "You're with the underground movement, aren't you?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And we need your help. The church is planning something—something that involves you and Grim."

A surge of anger rose in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"They're manipulating you, Azreal. They believe they can use you to draw Grim out. If we don't act fast, they'll have him in their grasp, and you'll be powerless to save him."

The weight of her words crashed over him, filling him with a sense of impending doom. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I know what they're capable of," Liora replied, her gaze steady. "And I won't let them take either of you without a fight."

He took a deep breath, the fire of determination igniting within him. "What do I need to do?"

"Meet me at the old library tonight, just after midnight. I'll share our plan there. But be careful; the church has eyes everywhere."

Azreal nodded, a sense of purpose filling him. "I'll be there."

As Liora turned to leave, he paused, his thoughts drifting back to Grim. Even with Grim being Death, a force of nature that transcended mortality, he couldn't shake the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the thought of their time together—the quiet moments filled with laughter, the stolen glances, the way Grim's presence felt like home.

The absurdity of it all made him chuckle again. Here he was, a mere mortal contemplating how to protect Death itself. Yet, he knew he couldn't stand idly by while the church plotted against the one he loved.

Determination surged within him as he turned away from the fountain. The fight was far from over, and he would not let the church extinguish the light he and Grim had kindled together. Embracing the chaos of his destiny, he navigated the darkened streets, ready to face whatever awaited him.