❝ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. ❞

*𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯*

Blood dyed her white clothing

Imprinting itself eternally in her spirit

Authority and obedience were all her fire ever knew to burn for

Existence held no authority over her, but devotion

Forever traumatized by betrayal

Her heart never grew

Continually burned in fires invisible

The apathy of her authority became nothing

Indifferent to the pain,

Her heart constantly wailed in misery

A shinigami with a yearning,

Is no shinigami at all

Born from the flames of vengeance

Her mold came to form from her continuance suffering for only one thing

Control

"My king, why do humans smile?"

"To mask the continuous urge for rule."

"My king, will I ever smile so pleasantly like them?"

"No, you will not."

"My king, may I ask why not?"

"Because you're not 'them', you're 'it'."

"Tell me Ryuk, what rests beyond the void to the human world?"

"Do you really wish to know?"

"More than the bones in my body."

˜"*°•.˜"*°• ---- •°*"˜.•°*"˜

Thunder drove down upon the Earth like a legion of arrows being hurled to the enemy. Unceasing and never pausing scorching the ground remarkably. The wind blew brutally as the ring of howling dogs rang inside everyone's ears. The wailing of the deceased was drawn up everywhere.

Tumbling on the rocky ground, Wren protected his eyes in vain with his hands, desiring to see further beyond his stand to discover a shelter anywhere that could provide dry warmth, but to no avail. Grumbling in discontent, Wren glanced over to his right, only to bolt away in shock as a clap of thunder struck nearby. As he was about to land on his two feet, a lump of mud struck his foot, making him stumble. A loud yelp left his mouth as he fell down and barreled downhill, all the while trying not to open his eyes.

After a few seconds of nothing but harsh jabs being punched at his side, Wren's body finally stopped abruptly against a bolder. Catching his breath for a moment as he surveyed his submerged body, Wren glanced up as he gathered the noise of something descending, only for his brown eyes to expand in shock and fear as a pile of mud fell on top of him—asphyxiating him.

As Wren strove to free himself, he felt nuisance, the lack of air supply taking a toll on him as he struggled more to unfetter himself only for his leg to be caught under a linked root. Perceiving that he could no longer hold in his breath, he naturally opened his mouth only to gag; which worked to aggravate the problem more.

Once his mouth filled with mud, Wren could no longer find it in his strength to struggle more, the energy having been left him a long time ago.

Slowly closing his eyes, Wren strained his ears to observe to the detached silence that reverberated inside his ears, the mud nulling all sounds from the outside world.

'Okay, this is it. I'm going to die. Damn, and on my wedding day, too. Not like it matters anyway. I would have never been a suitable husband, and her; she never was a fine human being.' Easing his body, Wren strained his ears in silence, his body already given up, and so did his heart.

With his eyes closed, all he could see was darkness—but all that changed when a small ray of sunlight pierced through the uncovered mud and touched down on his right eye. Gradually opening it, Wren's eyes widened as he saw a creature with four wings; two on each side, which were linked to a fascinating human woman.

Forgetting about his predicament, Wren went to introduce himself, only to gag and choke on the process, passing out soon after. Though before he fully blacked out, the woman who was dragging him out of the mud ball sighed in what was melancholy or displeasure; he couldn't tell.

"Gratification to meet your acquaintance, Wren Jago. I am nothing."

˜"*°•.˜"*°• ---- •°*"˜.•°*"˜

The crackle of a freshly lit fire rung throughout the small cottage as the light 'hum' ring of a steaming pot of tea vibrated along with the clinking of wood and metal. Honey and freshly baked bread drifting around the rooms before striking the keen nose of a specific ex-groom; Wren Jago.

Immediately opening his eyes in reply to the smell, Wren sprang up and turned his head towards where his nose first detected the scent, ignoring his changed clothing. Gradually stepping out of the bed, Wren stepped cautiously towards where the smell came from—which was in the kitchen—eager for something that would pacify him from his neglected pain.

Once finally entering the kitchen, Wren's curly brown hair bounced as he hid behind the pillar that was attached to the ground and ceiling—wooden, he noted.

Clutching his fists tight, Wren summoned up his last bits of valor and peeped over the wooden pillar only to come face-to-face with the allegedly fallen angel he met in the moment where his life was sure to end.

Owlish and curious eyes scrutinized his, coming closer and closer without realizing, causing Wren to step back and sweat a little. With her (h/c) hair tied up in a bun, the lady stepped back and walked back towards the kitchen, now wholly engrossed in her cooking more so than the stranger that she picked up.

Watching stiffly as the woman continued to ignore him, Wren took a small step forward, this not arousing the female.

"Hello, I'm-"

"Wren Jago. Third born descendant of Alistair." The lady cut in, the loud sound of the boiling teapot alerting Wren as he tried to tell her to take it off of the stove only for her to already have done it. Continuing to pay little mind to his existence, the (h/c)-nette took one porcelain cup and put it down on a small round tray, draining the herbal tea inside the teacup elegantly.

Seeing how concentrated and proper the unknown girl seemed at that moment, Wren blushed before shaking his head faintly. "Um," Looking back up at the mysterious girl, the girl continued to ignore him. "are you the woman who saved me the other day? If so, thank you-"

"Repeat."

"I'm sorry?" Wren asked her, his face scrunched up in perplexity as he continued staring at her as if she was mental. "I said, repeat." Sorta describing her first demand. Wren stared at her in confusion before lighting up in understanding, knowing what wanted to be repeated.

"Thank you?" Saying that more than a question, the woman sighed in dissatisfaction, this making Wren crack his knuckles in anxiety. "I felt nothing." Putting the tea saucer down tenderly on the small, round, wooden table, the lady signaled for him to sit down on the seat next to it, and he did just that.

"Drink." Commanding him once more, Wren chuckled dryly, knowing more than to deny their savior. "Thank you..." Wren whispered quietly, grasping onto the steaming cup of tea and nearing it close to his lips, sipping it. Though just as soon as he took a taste, he quickly spat it out on the floor and ran over towards the faucet, turning it on as he ran water through his throat and all around his mouth trying to wash out the revolting taste of what he just undergone.

Tilting her head in confusion, she glanced over at the teacup and grabbed it, taking a sip only to not taste anything but the sweet tea that she brought over with her from the Shinigami Realm, which belonged to both her and the Shinigami King.

After two minutes of trying to get the taste off Wren sighed in contentment as he no longer tasted it. "Was it not to your liking?" The lady asked him, showing him the cup of tea, which immediately made him reel back in disgust. "What—what is in that?!" Wren questioned loudly in alarm, pointing a trembling finger at the cup of tea in her hand.

"Oh, bones of the first dinosaur and the meteor that killed its race." Answering his question with full frankness, the lady placed down the tea and walked over to him. Tracing a hand over his eyes, the (h/c)-nette hummed. "I see... I forgot that you humans despise the taste of death." Pulling away from Wren, the woman walked over to the tea and drank it all, soon after crushing the teacup with her hand.

"Off you go." Opening the door, (Y/n) locked eyes with him as if she was commanding him to go. Looking at her n hesitation, Wren was about to decline, for a small part of him took intrust in her peculiar demeanor, only to find himself on the outskirts of a peaceful and pleasant forest.

˜"*°•.˜"*°• ---- •°*"˜.•°*"˜

"What's your name, dove?"

"I have no name, for my king has no need for it."

"Well, mind if I give you a name?"

"No. You can do as you please."

"Alright, I'll call you (Y/n)."

"(Y/n)... I enjoy it, Sir Jago."

"Call me Wren."

"..."

"Yes, Wren."

˜"*°•.˜"*°• ---- •°*"˜.•°*"˜

A light like no other blazed inside her

Burning brighter and greater by day and night

He taught her how to cook

He taught her how to make proper meals and tea

He taught her how to make friends

He taught her how to laugh

He taught her fashion

He taught her adventure

He even taught her the most forbidden trait in shinigami existence

Love

Like a growing flower, they grew closer together.

They learned a lot from one another about what they liked and what they didn't

Both found comfort and solace in each other's company.

Both found warmth in each other's embrace

And both found a loving passion

Howling winds of anger

Howling winds of sadness

Forced away from each other,

One to sacrifice their memory of the other

One to remember and suffer in those memories

One forgot

The other did not

No pain

Unbelievable, lonely pain

No love for the other but only a forgotten scar

Love for the other with a forever fresh wound lodged in her heart

A being with a choice of life and death doesn't deserve love

But neither did he.

(ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!)