HE DISAPPEARED, LEAVING DELILAH behind with two bickering guys. She was sad to see the Reaper go, even if he had promised to come back again. It was when James grabbed her arm that she got pulled back to the present again, blinking as she looked up at him. A look of concern had colored his eyes, but it was Jonathan who spoke first, practically pushing him aside.

"What about Logan?" he frowned," you told me you would pass a message."

"I will," she promised," but I do not have his soul at this moment."

"What -" Jonathan began, but James pushed him away, annoyance clear on his face.

"Stop bothering her, dude," he said," text the guy if you want to tell him something, Delilah isn't your slave."

Jonathan looked ready to throw a punch, but it was Roshan's voice which interrupted the fight, his lazy drawl curling around them.

"What do we have here?" he said, blue nails tapping on his flute of champagne," don't tell me you guys were having fun without me?"

"We weren't," James said," Delilah and I were just about to leave."

Jonathan huffed, grabbing James by the collar and pulling him closer, eyes aflame.

"You think you can just do whatever you want?" he said.

"You -" James said, fists clenching.

Before any of them could continue, Roshan placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder, a charming smile on his face.

"Let's not become violent now," he said, clicking his tongue in distaste.

"Get your hand off me," Jonathan snapped at him, already moving to push Roshan away.

Right then Roshan placed his hand on Jonathan's shoulder, swiping his footing away and pressing him down with his knee in one fluid move. He rolled his eyes, his champagne not having spilled out of the glass as he sipped on it.

"Told you not to get violent now," he said.

"What the fuck," Jonathan breathed.

"Come on now," Roshan complained as he let him go, brushing imaginary dust from his knee," you almost got my clothes dirty. This is why I don't like fighting."

One look at the whole scene, at Roshan tugging his cuffs straight again, Jonathan grumbling on the floor and James' scowl, and Delilah turned around, having seen enough.

"I'm leaving," she declared, flashing a smile over her shoulder so they wouldn't worry too much," the energy has gotten bad here, I think you all need some fresh air to clear your head. Either way, we'll talk tomorrow. Please tell Theresa I've gone ahead."

"Delilah," James called out, reaching for her but stopping just before he touched her. His hand curled up again as he parted his lips, but no words came out. With a shake of his head, he continued, quieter now. "No, it's nothing. I'll see you later."

"I promise not to harm anyone else if you stay," Roshan said.

She chuckled, waving his concerns off as she walked through the crowd, Jonathan's shouts lost amidst the music. The walk back to her dorm was short, ghosts passing by her as she absentmindedly hummed to herself. Once she closed her door behind her she walked towards the bathroom she shared with Theresa, drawing herself a bath and soaking in the essential oils.

With a long sigh she lifted her chin to the ceiling, closing her eyes as the ticking of the clock Theresa had hung danced off the walls. She never minded being out, but in the end nothing brought her as much peace as her own space. When she put on a towel and headed to her room again forty minutes later, she felt refreshed, her thoughts with Theresa as she hoped the girl wouldn't be too angry.

Her presence there would only have kept the fight going, so she had chosen the best option and distanced herself. All she wanted was for her friends to have a good time and to check up on Mateo, even though she had no idea where he had gone. She started humming again, but it was the soft sound of breathing which made her gaze turn towards her bed on the left, eyes wide.

The Grim Reaper was leaning against the wall of her bed, eyes shut and messy hair spilling like ink on his turned face, breathing soft as his cloak was fanned around him. His scythe was resting against the side of her bed, not looking so haunting without his hand around it, the misty wisps of smoke around him still whispering, even when he couldn't hear it. The shadows under his eyes seemed softer now.

He moved and his cloak shifted, falling away and revealing the jet black pattern she had caught a glimpse of before. An intricate tattoo appeared from underneath the black blouse he was wearing, going from the start of his neck to his underarms, which were the only other piece of skin visible thanks to his rolled up sleeves. His hands spread out, as if he was reaching for something, the pattern reminding her more of the outlines of bones there.

A frown creased his forehead then as he shifted again, looking uneasy. He breathed out and the flowers she had placed all around the room withered at once, mumbled words leaving his lips almost in a prayer.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice rippling across the flowers as they bloomed briefly before dying again," I'm sorry."

Delilah moved quietly, hands gentle on his shoulders as she tugged at him so he was lying down. She took off his shoes, tucked him in and brushed his hair out of his face, leaning forward to whisper to him. A spell she had read long ago for good dreams left her lips, before she sealed it with a kiss on his forehead. His mumblings stopped and she smiled, turning around to grab the snacks she had bought in case she would see him again from her shelves.

When she walked back towards him he grabbed her arm, making her lose her balance when he pulled. She fell on the bed and he pressed her closer with an arm around her, lips grazing against her hair. Surprised she tried to get free, turning her head to face him, but just when she was about to do so he opened his eyes.

He yawned, drowsily pulling her closer as he murmured in her hair, words soft.

"Lemon cakes," he whispered.

"I bought them for you," she smiled.

He blinked, before his gaze finally settled on her and he realized the close proximity they were in, her nose skimming against his. She was about to day something when he broke the silence first, whatever he was feeling hard to read on his face.

"What are you doing in bed with me?" he said.

"You had fallen asleep," she said," when I walked past, you pulled me in."

"I had fallen asleep?" he said, hand brushing across his face, the small movement of the tendons making the tattooed bones glow.

"I wished for you to have a good dream," she smiled," did it work?"

He stared at her in surprise, before spreading out his fingers and glancing at the jet black swirls of ink.

"It's the first time in a while I've slept," he murmured.

"I'm glad," she said, expression dazzling as she looked at him," you work so hard."

With a gentle hand he grabbed her chin, tilting it up so they were looking each other in the eye. In a way he still seemed like he was dreaming, that softer look which he didn't usually carry resting in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

Only then did he notice that she was wearing a towel, his hand immediately moving to cover his eyes as he pushed himself up.

"I apologize," he said, blush dusting along his cheekbones," I must have been drunk off the sleep I got for me to pull you in in this state -"

"Oh no, it's fine," she assured him," you didn't know I wasn't clothed yet, why would I be angry?" She moved into a seated position, smiling at him. "Anyway, go and get some more sleep. I'll make some soothing herbal tea for you while I put on a dress."

"I can't," he said, still not looking through the hand he was using to block his sight," I don't know when I had dozed off, but I'm on a strict schedule. This was already too much, I have so many souls left to see."

"You can look," she said as she stepped inside a summer dress. He carefully removed his hand and she glanced at him, expression warm. "Didn't you tell me you were going to take my soul? I'll only comply if you sit here for an hour to have tea with me." She made her voice more gentle then as she walked over, taking his hand in hers. "Please."

He had looked so tired, so weary that she could only feel bad if he left now. How big the burden was which he was trying to shoulder - it broke her heart. When he had slept he had looked so innocent, a young boy dressed in black, but now he was awake again his shields were so high up she worried for him. She knew these kinds of people, had seen them all around her, because the only thing they had all in common was that they were dead.

"If you stay, I'll answer any question you'll ask," she said.

His expression was hard to read as he looked away, fingers absentmindedly grazing against the flowers on the bedside table.

"Did I do this?" he said.

"No," she said," I seemed to have forgotten to water them, that's all."

When he glanced at her this time, she could almost feel the flicker of warmth in his voice.

"I'll have tea with you," he said," but only for an hour."

She smiled.

"I'll prepare the herbs."