Lian's expression did not change.
She slowly dragged a hand down her face. "My lady. Are you concussed?"
Zhuxen barely heard her. She was too busy staring at Thanatos, who was now pinching the bridge of his nose like he had the world's worst headache.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "Another one. Another one. How many times do I have to—"
He cut himself off, shoulders tensing. Then, finally, he tilted his head toward Zhuxen and stared directly at her.
Zhuxen felt her soul leave her body.
It was happening.
This was it.
This was the moment their fates would intertwine.
This was where he'd look at her, his cold, immortal heart thawing in her presence, and he'd say something tragic and poetic like—
"I know you" or "We are bound by destiny."
Or even— "You are the one I have been searching for."
Zhuxen had imagined this moment countless times.
She had spent years picturing him—the mysterious, tragic figure from her grandmother's story. A man so devastatingly handsome that women would fall in love at first sight, a being so powerful that the mere whisper of his name sent shivers down spines.
And yet… nothing could have prepared her for the absolute masterpiece of a man standing before her.
Her breath hitched.
Oh. Oh, he was beautiful.
Not just regular handsome, like the wealthy suitors who paraded around her estate. No, those men were boring. This man? He was ruinously, unfairly, disgustingly attractive. The kind of handsome that made bad decisions look like a fantastic idea.
His midnight-black hair was a perfect mess, the kind of effortlessly disheveled look that made her fingers twitch with the need to run through it, ruin it more, and then smooth it down—only to ruin it again.
His jawline was so sharp, she was almost certain it could cut through her father's ridiculous velvet curtains. His cheekbones belonged in a museum, preferably labeled 'Divine Artwork: Please Do Not Touch'—though she was very much considering ignoring that rule.
And his eyes. Good gods, his eyes.
A storm trapped in a gaze, shifting between silver and black, filled with the weight of centuries of untold stories, lost souls, and probably an unhealthy amount of existential regret.
He was tall—not just regular tall, but the 'could-lean-over-her-and-make-her-forget-how-to-breathe' tall. Broad-shouldered, long-limbed, draped in an unfairly stylish, ominous cloak that billowed despite the lack of wind. It was almost insulting how well he pulled off the mysterious, brooding, and mildly exhausted god of death look.
Even the way he crossed his arms, exuding pure "I am so done with everything" energy, was attractive.
This wasn't fair.
This wasn't fair at all.
Zhuxen had always been a woman of refined taste, and now, standing before the living embodiment of every dark, tragic romance she had ever fantasized about, there was only one logical conclusion to make:
She was completely, utterly, hopelessly in love.
And then he opened his mouth.
"Who the hell keeps summoning me over stupid deaths?!"
Zhuxen swooned. Perfect. He was perfect.
"It was I, mi amore," Zhuxen intoned, dramatically lending one hand forward. She was expecting for Thanatos to hold it but instead, he squinted at her.
"Who the hell are you?"
Zhuxen almost collapsed.
Lian, meanwhile, pinched her arm. "My lady, who are you talking to?"
Zhuxen whipped around. "LIAN. HE'S RIGHT THERE."
Lian squinted at the space where Zhuxen was frantically gesturing.
She saw nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Just the same old dusty corner of the room where the furniture hadn't been cleaned in weeks.
"My lady, I think the fall scrambled your brain."
Zhuxen ignored her. She turned back to Thanatos, who was still staring at her, his frown deepening.
"Wait a minute," he said. His eyes narrowed.
"You're the idiot who drowned herself earlier."
Zhuxen lit up.
He remembered her.
A love story for the ages.
"You noticed me?" she asked, clasping her hands together.
Thanatos snorted. "Of course, I noticed you. You were flailing like a dying fish. It was pathetic."
Zhuxen gasped. "I was not flailing like a dying fish!"
"You were."
"I was drowning gracefully!"
"There's no such thing as drowning gracefully!"
Lian slowly backed away from Zhuxen.
Her lady had officially lost her mind.
"Alright, that's it," Lian said, grabbing Zhuxen's wrist. "We're going to a doctor. Or a priest. Or an exorcist, because you are clearly—"
Zhuxen yanked away.
She was not leaving now! Not when Thanatos—her one true love—was right in front of her.
"Wait," she said, spinning back to him. "You… you must be wondering why I summoned you here!"
Thanatos blinked. "I wasn't and you didn't really summon me, your insanity did."
Zhuxen's confidence wavered for exactly two seconds before she ignored him completely.
With the grace of a woman in love, she swept a hand over her chest.
"I, Zhuxen, have waited my entire life for you, Thanatos."
"...okay."
"I have thrown myself into peril countless times to catch a glimpse of you."
"…why?"
"I have dreamt of the day we'd finally meet!"
"Why?!"
Zhuxen smiled brightly. "Because I love you."
A horrible, horrible silence filled the room.
Lian stared at Zhuxen.
Thanatos stared at Zhuxen.
Even the candles on the wall seemed to burn less enthusiastically.
Finally, after a long moment, Thanatos crossed his arms.
"You don't even know me."
Zhuxen waved a hand dismissively. "That's just a minor inconvenience."
Thanatos let out the heaviest sigh in existence. "Oh, for the love of—"
He suddenly froze. His hand instinctively reached for something.
His cloak billowed. The air grew heavier.
Zhuxen held her breath.
This was it.
This was the moment.
He was going to sweep her off her feet, take her to the underworld, and—
"Where is it?" Thanatos muttered.
Zhuxen blinked. "Where is what?"
Thanatos patted himself down. His movements became hastier. He checked his pockets. He lifted his cloak. He turned in a circle like he'd lost something important.
Lian, still unable to see him, tilted her head at Zhuxen.
"Why are you watching an invisible man spin in a circle?"
Zhuxen ignored her. She gazed at Thanatos, heart pounding.
"Is something wrong, my love?"
Thanatos slowly looked at her. Dead. In. The. Eyes.
"I lost my scythe."
Zhuxen's smile faltered.
Lian yawned. "Your imaginary friend lost his imaginary stick? That's unfortunate."
Thanatos ignored her completely. He stared at Zhuxen like this was, somehow, her fault.
"My scythe," he repeated, voice flat. "The only thing that lets me take souls. The only thing that lets me return them. The only thing that makes me a functioning Grim Reaper."
Zhuxen processed this.
Then processed it again.
And again.
And then—
"You lost it?!?!"
Thanatos rubbed his temples. "I didn't lose it. I just… misplaced it."
Zhuxen gasped. "Then you mean—"
She turned dramatically, gripping Lian's arms. "HE CAN'T RETURN ME TO MY BODY."
Lian stared at her. Then, slowly, painfully, she exhaled.
"I don't know what's worse. The fact that you think you're dead or the fact that you're flirting with whatever you think killed you."
Zhuxen spun back to Thanatos.
Her heart raced.
Her soul trembled.
Her entire existence vibrated with one undeniable truth.
Thanatos. The Grim Reaper, the love of her life, had lost the one thing that could put her back in her body.
This...
This was…
The best thing that could have ever happened.
Zhuxen beamed.
Thanatos did not.
In fact, he looked like he was deeply regretting his entire immortal existence.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked.
Zhuxen gently took his hands in hers which he immediately ripped away. But that didn't stop her from declaring:
"Don't worry, my love. We'll find your scythe together."
Thanatos groaned. Loudly.
Zhuxen grinned.
Lian, in the background, wondered if she could fake her own death just to get out of this situation.
And thus, their journey began...
or not.