King of Death

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***

I can't even count how many years have passed since it all started.

Those days were something I can't even explain. I was tired. Tired of listening. Tired of being in my office. Tired of going out. Tired of pretending. Tired of being lonely. Maybe even tired of being alive. There was no point in living without him in that time.

***

"Sergio?"

The man that never left me in my own misery. Even if I pushed him away, even if we won't agree sometimes, even if he has his own life to deal with.

My workplace used to be one of my happy places. It made me feel accomplished, powerful, in charge of everything.

Since I was a little girl, I always ran away from problems. Never had the gut to actually deal with my own life so I put all of that anger and frustration into the only thing that I could do best, learn and work.

But I was too lonely, too overwhelmed, too scared to even try to get myself up. Life was something I was not ready enough to handle now. 

I was upset, always wondering why did my life take that turn? It was all too hard for me to understand. 

Sometimes I miss those years of pure joy and happiness. I was so foolish to take them for granted.

I looked at my left hand unconsciously, seeing my wedding ring. Even after two years, it was still there, not leaving my hand once.

"Yes?" he asked concerned. His brows were furrowed together, making his wrinkles pop. Even though he was immortal, it was easy to tell he lived for a long time. I guess not even a werewolf gene could prevent aging.

Sergio knew I wasn't the same and I was never going to be the same woman that he met about ten years ago. He knew I never made time for myself to grieve, but I would still think of my dead husband every second that passes by.

He was the only one I admitted my sorrow. I couldn't afford to show any sign of weakness to someone else, because if I did, I was just as good as dead and so was my career.

He was leaning on the door frame and the light was helping me to see him better. He had bags under his eyes and I could've bet he had so many sleepless nights that he couldn't count.

He worked his ass off since he became a father to an awesome daughter. He had a lot of money, he was a rich man. But the whole effort was never about money, it was about passion. I knew he loved his career more than he loved his wife or his newborn child.

"When was your last decent sleep?"  I asked worried. He didn't answer.

We always cared about each other's well being more than we cared about ourselves.

"Go home, Sergio." He looked at me like I was insane. I knew he would rather spend his time here, where he had more control over the situation that he had at home with a child he didn't know how to handle.

He and I were like two drops of water,

Without saying another word, I signed the last paper sitting on my desk and got up, feeling a small pain coming from my legs. They were sore from sitting too much.

Meeting him at the door frame, I could see the tiredness that was written all over his face. His blonde hair was everywhere, his eyes were sleepy, his face was a little bit pale and I was sure he was going to catch a cold. Even if he was a werewolf, he was always sick in winter.

His shirt was coffee stained since yesterday and I realized that he never went home. Showing with my finger the coffee stain, he rolled his eyes at me.

"Fine." he agreed. I wanted to see him healthy and working that much was not going to help with the cold he's going to get.

"Goodnight." I said walking past him, making my way to the elevator. He probably muttered the same thing, but I didn't pay too much attention.

I felt like I needed a cigarette, tea and to sleep at least for a few hours.

***

I was driving slowly.

It was dark outside, my eyes were giving me a hard time, my headache was really bad and I was really tired. Usually I drink a lot of coffee to keep me awake, but today I didn't even have time to go and buy it from the cafeteria.

I lit up a cigarette. I needed to feel the smoke entering my lungs. I needed the instant feeling of relief.

I was humming along to a song on the radio, turning up the volume. I developed a bad habit of listening to sad music. Everything reminded me of my dead husband and I did that to myself for a reason. To punish me for not grieving over him, never taking a break to cry, to scream, to feel all the pain of losing him. I used to hate this car. I used to drive the other one just because I didn't like that this one's blue. And he always laughed about it, even if it was his car and he loved it, he understood that my surface was always superficial. 

I never truly cared about money or fashion, but I liked to pretend. No one had to know how I was really doing, so I had the habit of bragging about a lot of things that I shouldn't have. 

My phone rang and I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, but I saw that it was Sergio, so I answered.

"What? What happened?" I didn't mean to sound so harsh to him, but I was so tired of hearing everybody speaking.

"Don't you think it's time to get over him? To be happy with another man?" The moment I've heard his voice, I knew he was angry. He was just as tired as I was after work and probably he was also tired of me being sad all the time.

But I didn't see that then. I was angry, I was offended that he would even suggest me to forget about the one that I thought was my greatest love. He knew how much that man meant to me then, he knew I always saw Christian as my king, my heart, my everything.

"Are you making fun of me?" 

"You're lonely. You have absolutely no one. You're not yourself anymore. Your hair is no longer red. You only wear black clothes. You barely eat. You're not keeping in touch with your family, or his. You're driving that car that you used to hate. And the only thing that you're doing is working your ass off trying to get your mind away from his memory." his words were harsh. I knew he was right, but I didn't want him to be. I was in misery and I was dealing poorly with everything, but it was the only thing I knew how to do.

"Just-" I tried to say but he cut me off, telling me how my dead Christian would never come back. And that's when I lost it.

I ended the call and I start crying like a newborn baby. My feelings were all over the place, I was a walking human mess. I was in the verge of insanity, for a man that was mine, for a man that chose me over his beloved, for a man that tried so hard to keep me in my golden cage that he decided to died for it.

My thoughts were only louder and louder. Where was he? Why did I let him go? I could've tried harder to make him stay and never leave.

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to understand and process everything that happened in the last two years.

Out of nowhere, two lights popped out and before I could hit the break I passed out.

***

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