Interesting (AfterDeath)

Chapter 43

~~~~~~~~~~

Geno P.O.V

The month had slipped by like sand through fingers.

The time was full of sweet kisses and love and food and sleep and moonlit walks and whispered 'I love you's, but it could never have lasted long enough.

No matter how hard I tried to hold onto it, minutes blurred into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, and soon, Reaper had to answer his phone again.

There was only a single job that was given via voicemail, which was more than a relief, seeing as Reaper had said that it would probably only take a day to complete.

We had eaten a simple breakfast together, kissed, and then he was gone.

Again.

In complete contrast to the month Reaper and I had spent together, the single day seemed to last forever.

Seconds dragged on, and every time I glanced at the clock, only a few had passed.

I sighed tiredly as I grabbed on of Reaper's old cloaks from out of his closet, pulling it over my soft, white-grey jacket and shorts. I looked into the mirror and gave a soft, broken laugh, wrapping my arms around myself.

The deep black fabric of the cloak hung about me like an oversized blanket, nearly falling off my shoulders, the sleeves covering my hands, the fabric spread out over the ground, nearly making me trip when I walked.

I pulled the hood part over my head, hiding my - ugly - face completely, then stumbled out into the living room, collapsing onto a couch.

I sighed softly as I curled into a ball, the cloak draped over my body limply.  I grabbed a cushion, hugging it to my chest tightly as I closed my eyes, imagining Reaper, imagining his presence.

But he was too good to be imagined.

I hugged the cushion tighter, curling around it, eventually managing to fall asleep, my mind a nightmarish landscape of loss and despair.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke only an hour later - according to the clock on the wall - and sighed, wiping away the tears flowing down my face.

'I'll start on some food or something,' I thought dully, letting the cushion drip back to the couch as I stood, mindful of the black fabric that was bunched around my feet.

Humming softly and lowly, I swept around the kitchen, turning the oven on, then gathering ingredients for a butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

It's a dessert, but who the fuck gives?

I sighed quietly, seeing that the cinnamon was on the top shelf, just out of my reach. I grabbed the small stool that rested beside the cupboard and stood on it easily, grabbing the cinnamon, then stepping down.

I began mixing items together dully, wishing that Reaper was here with me, wishing to have his arms wrapped around me again, wishing for his presence.

I sighed again, soon finishing with mixing ingredients, taking a pie shell and pouring the mix into it, placing it on a tray, then sliding it into the oven.

I waited, sitting on the countertop boredly, my legs dangling, then stood and turned the oven off when a timer for half an hour rung, leaving the pie where it was.