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Catherine

"I don't understand why you didn't freak out when you saw dead people working, and me telling you that I'm a reaper but you're still stuck with the fact that I'm;  your words, the reaper's son." Sighing, he placed a plate of chicken stew in front of me.

True, I've been staring at him the whole ride back home. Apparently, he owns a car, wait.

A truck.

He owns a tow truck. The man talks ill about my car when his ride looked like that animated truck. What's its name? Mater?

You simply cannot guess that a man who makes enough money to get himself his own bachelor pad,nice rides and probably a couple of parties every now and then, doesn't want to live on his own place or drive something fancy just because he still has a working truck.

"In case you haven't heard what your stepmother just said to me back there, you're the reaper's son. THE reaper's son!" He regarded me for a couple of seconds but said nothing. He swung the kitchen towel over his shoulder and sat at the opposite side of the table. He picked up his spoon and tapped on the table before giving me a serious look.

"Please don't call her my stepmother. It makes me uncomfortable that he married someone who looked like she died in the playboy mansion."

Kudos to him, he really did make chicken stew for dinner. I, on the other hand, haven't even touched his culinary masterpiece and decided to prodded him a little more about, well about him I guess.

"But she's so young." I frowned when he chuckled, his face lighting up for the first time since he found me chatting with his dad's wife. Excuse me. Second wife.

"Immortality can do wonders, bonbon." He pointed at my plate and continued devouring his meal.

"But you're the reaper's son!" I pointed a spoon towards his direction as if that would make him understand what a big deal it was.

"When are you going to stop calling me the reaper's son?"

My eyes widened as I stabbed the chicken on my plate a little too hard, making the table shaking.

"Until I convince myself that everything that has happened to me since you got here, is real."

He frowned but continued with his meal. I know that he was annoyed but I just got kidnapped.

By death's wife.

A woman kidnapped by Death's wife would want some answers. And she will get some answers. Like right now.

"It's not a big deal, bonbon. I haven't talked to him in ages."

He was avoiding eye contact. Either he's lying to me or he's just not comfortable with talking about his father.

That's the thing about living with someone. You get to know them on another level. (Aside from the fact that I have seen him naked a couple of times) There are things that he does that gives me clues on what he's feeling. Psychic I know.

Like if he sings El Mundo when he opens the door, that would usually mean that he had a great day. There would also be times when he would walk in and go straight to his room and change. The next thing you know he's in the kitchen, cooking. If he smiles, then that's what I have secretly labelled as 'calm Damon'.

If he doesn't smile? Then he's just tired and probably lacks sleep.

Hey. Having two jobs ain't easy. Especially if the other one uses a lot of manpower.

Which one?

Only he knows. And all the other dead people he works with.

It feels like day one all over again. Only worse.

Far worse.

His hand stopped halfway,his spoon hanging mid-air and his mouth open. He slowly put his spoon down and wiped his mouth. He regarded me with a frown and stood up.

"Knowing you, this is supposed to be the time when you tell me that I should leave because I'm a crazy person who claims to see and catch dead people. Probably call the cops or some hospital for the looneys."

I tried not to smile, but really though, Damon looks pretty funny as he tried analysing the situation. Or making sense of it. Believe me when I say I'm trying to sort my thoughts myself.

Let me tell you how I'm still on my feet and finding this thing going on, hilarious.

First off, I let a man live with me, who claims it to be divine intervention that got him here. It wasn't until later on that I believed him.

Then he tells me he's a reaper.

Then he takes me to a place that's basically the earth's purgatory . One of the purgatories on earth, since the non-living just so happens to have a far more organized system than the government.

The same man who cooks me dinner on most nights can open my eye. That made me find out that some dead people get other dead people. e.i. Gina.

Honestly,being the reaper's son is the icing on the cake. With sprinkles.

Cake that showed up on my kitchen while I was on my most embarrassing underclothes.

"You slept in a couch in your office for I don't know how long. It smells like paint and pizza. I don't think it's healthy, gives you bad body posture. Desk drawers are made for paperwork. Not clothes. Besides, you help me save a lot more than usual by living here. Yes, you're crazy, but I must be crazy too, because I'm living with a man who sees and catches dead people. If I ever do call the hospital for the looneys, I'll be the one being admitted. That much I can tell you." I gave him a small smile before finally giving my tortured chicken my attention.

Turns out, I can get along with dead people better than living people. And on this case, someone who's involved with dead people.

Barely, but I was making more progress than the folks back at work. And relatives. And people I randomly meet. And clients. Basically everyone else.

"Just when I thought I got you all figured out, you say the most unexpected things." He stood beside me and leaned over. Resting his elbow on the table, he followed my hand as I brought it to my mouth. I paused just when I was about to take my second spoonful and grinned.

"Touché ."

He smiled as I groaned, chewing rather unlady-like(ly) on my meal. You just had to savour and be thankful for the good stuff. This day has been draining.

You know, work, shopping, being kidnapped.

"I don't get it." I opened my eyes to see him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't get what?"

Instead of answering my question, he rested his chin on both of his hands and stared at me.

"Well you're beautiful. And funny. And smart. Why do you end up with assholes?"

I almost choked on the process of swallowing.

"Excuse me?" Not even bothering to follow the 'swallow before you talk', I poked his forehead. I get it. He's making me feel better. But this was going too far.

The guys I've dated weren't assholes. I think they were just smart enough to know the difference between a trailer and the full movie in 3D.

"I'm serious Catherine." I raised an eyebrow at him. Surely he was just...

He took the spoon off my hand and made me face him. My cheeks slightly squeeshed in between his hands.

Okay. He's not kidding.

This went from being scary to sweet to awkward real' fast.

"Uh...thank you?" I frowned as he observed my facial features. I'm finding this really weird. Not because I have never done this before, but because I have this urge to do the same.

His eyes this close,it was like staring into an abyss. I just noticed that his nose was a bit crooked and that he must've had chicken pox as a kid, the tell-tale signs on his temple. Damon wasn't as perfect.

He must've been a beautiful child. I remember Benjie telling me they found him when he was twelve. And he's been stuck with the guys since then. But what happened before that? His mom was alive, that's what Sabina pointed out. Does Damon looks his mom? What does Death even look like.

My confusion probably showed on my face because I felt his thumbs smoothening out the wrinkles as I scrunched my eyebrows.

"You worry too much, bonbon." He brought his face closer to mine. By instinct, my body drew back but his hands let me in place.

"And you worry too less. Pardon my grammar."

He chuckled but his face slowly turned serious as he looked into my eyes.

Don't make this awkward. Don't make this awkward. Don't make this awkward.

I closed my eyes shut as I felt his warm breath on my face.

First I felt his forehead on my forehead. We stayed like this for a while. I'm trying really hard not to open my eyes. He murmured something I didn't catch before I felt his nose rubbing mine. Then his warmth was gone.

Just like that. I opened my eyes just as he went back to where he sat and brought his plate on the sink.

"Now that we've established the fact that I'm Death's son and that I'm a part-time reaper and that I'm still staying, how about some dessert?"

"You confuse me." It was a just whisper but still, he looked at me. Like he heard what I just said.

He gave me a knowing smile before taking out a small cake from the fridge.

"Touché, bonbon."

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