CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | TREPIDATION

You become a changed person when you face the reaper and deny him your soul.

• • •

PRESENT TIME

"Because when death loves you back- it'll be forever."

That sentence kept ringing in Dallia's ears as she sat in front of her desk, her eyes set on the metal box. Soft meowing heard from her cat, she turns to where her pet was and patted the top of its head.

What does she mean by that? Was all Dallia could ever think of.

It had been days since she encountered Mark's 'co-worker' and had been missing Mark's company badly. She didn't want to admit it, but she did, she enjoyed the company Mark gave though they didn't click that well enough. Somehow, she found a connection.

But she thought it was impossible – she didn't have a heart, that's why.

Sighing, Dallia went on with the night. About to reach for her stitches when she remembered what Mark would often say about it. Her wounds weren't real, she wasn't bleeding, and she was alive. Though she didn't want to believe it, Mark was able to persuade her to at least avoid doing it often.

"Wow, no stitches for today?"

Dallia recoiled in her seat, eyes widening, and she felt her heart lighten up. Glancing back, she finds Mark leaning against her wall, wearing the usual outfit he wore, however, his hair wasn't styled up as it would be. His hair was still pitch black, but it was messy, some strands curled up and a few hovered above his forehead.

"Mark..."

"That's me." He said, pushing off the wall and sauntered over to where the girl was. Mark sent her a small smile, stretching out his hand towards her.

A bit perplexed, she eyed him warily before placing her hand in his and he felt reassured. Mark felt the warmth from Dallia and subconsciously rubbed his thumb, grazing it over the back of her hand, feeling a few stitches making him frown a bit.

"Where did you go?" Dallia suddenly asked. She assumed Mark would throw a fit, telling her that it wasn't any of her business or anything, but he didn't. He sighed and avoided her curious gaze.

It wasn't like him to leave his job unattended like that- if he still even considered Dallia as his job. Those past weeks without Dallia, all he did was lie in bed to recall those horrid memories.

"I...confronted my own fears, Dallia."

"Death has fears?"

Mark chuckled, rolling his eyes at her question. "Of course it does. I'm afraid...of a lot of things...actually." He gave her a look, "Are you afraid of something?"

Dallia nodded slowly, her eyes raked over her stitches. Of course to Dallia, all she saw was her bloodied arm, though she didn't want to bring that up anymore. "I'm afraid of losing someone I love. Be it a person...or a pet." She whispered softly, gazing over her cat. "And because of that, I tend to- to do things I'm not supposed to."

"Which is trying to bring them back to life?" Mark guessed, albeit, it was already obvious. Dallia nodded slowly, now looking back down. His eyes softened and he crouched down to match the height of her face.

"What are you afraid of, Mark?"

The reaper hummed, pondering about his fears for a few seconds before replying. "Myself. My past. And you."

"Me?" Dallia shot her head up, surprised to hear that.

Mark nodded, "Yes. You."

Hesitantly, Dallia opened her mouth to ask him, "Why?"

"Because I'm scared...that if I- if I open up my heart to you...I'd lose you too. And, I don't want that to happen, but it will. Because, because...it is my job...to make you realize that death is horrible—"

"Death is dark. Death is painful. Death is...death is you." Dallia interjected, her soulless eyes looking into Mark's golden ones. "Death may be horrible, but Death can love too, and when Death loves, it is forever. Because once you love someone...that someones...dies."

Mark pursed his lips shut. Everything she said was true and had struck him hard. Dallia searched Mark's face, picking up pain from his golden eyes. Empathetic towards him, she pulls him into a hug to which Mark immediately gave in, wrapping his arms around her.

They both felt comfortable. Hugging each other assured each other. Both felt alive despite feeling dead every day.

≫≫≫

"Dallia?" Mark called out, looking over to the girl who kneeled in front of her shrine.

"Yeah?"

"C-Can...Can you call me Minhyung?"

Dallia drew her eyebrows together, craning her head towards him as she hummed, "Minhyung? Why?"

Mark sighed, "I- I don't know. I just..."

"Mark," she said sternly, "Seriously."

"If this is about that girl you told me- what was her name? Lee Harin? I know that she made you feel like a new person- with the name and all...but did you ever appreciate your actual name?"

The male rubbed his nape slowly, a scowl resurfacing on his lips. "I hate my name, Lia. The fact that Seirus gave it to me makes me feel sick."

"But calling you Minhyung...that's not really you. It feels like a different person and the person I want to be right now is Mark." Dallia explained, grabbing his arm to pull him down and sit beside her. "Mark is that hot-headed grim reaper who's obsessed with killing me—"

"Hey! I'm not obsessed! If anything, you're the one who's obsessed!" He protested, lips forming a little pout.

"Right," Dallia sneered before continuing on with what she was saying. "All I'm saying is that I want to meet the real you."

Mark scrunched his nose quick, arms crossed in front of his chest as he rolled his eyes. "Since when were you talkative?"

"Mark."

"Okay, I know. I understand. I am the real Mark- It's just..."

"I know it's hard...with you hating yourself. Everyone hates their own self. It's not quite avoidable."

Dallia gave him a soft smile, "At least try? After all...I am trying too." She looks down at her arms, a bit disturbed to see fewer stitches.

Mark nodded, "I am."

Will I be able to kill you?

Or will I run away?

From my fear of my
love one dying

and that I'm the reason
why they die.

Then Seirus's words echoed in his mind.

"As I said, Mark. It always depends. You have a choice, they have a choice. You teach them to realize that."

• • •
oooh what does that mean 👀

any theories? hmmm let's see