Flirting With Death

Chapter 8

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"This is outrageous!"

"Uh-huh," Death replied in a bored tone, fiddling with his fingers.

"They can't do this!"

"Mhm."

"Are you even listening to me?" I snapped, and Death whipped his head in my direction with a dull, bored expression on his face.

He was silent for a moment, looking me dead in the eye before letting out a chuckle saying, "No."

I groaned loudly, my hands flew up to my hair and pulled on the roots from frustration. Why must he be such a jerk?

Can't he see I'm suffering enough?

"Calm down woman-"

I stopped in my tracks, snapping my head in his direction and gave a him the best glare I could muster up, "What did you just say to me?"

"Whoops," his gaze was now on the blood-red wall, his mouth in the shape of an 'O' as his hand flew to the back of his neck.

"Calm down? Calm down? No, I will not calm down!" I screeched, my head beginning to throb from the headache that appeared after that wonderful meeting, "Didn't you hear what that creepy, old man said? I have thirty days to live in a coma and figure out how the hell to get home! And you being a jerk is not helping."

It took me a few moments to realize how heavy my breathing had gotten, and by then, I was lying on my back on the giant bed, staring at the ceiling once more.

I had almost forgotten the Death was sitting on the other side, but he reminded me when he leaned forward, propping himself up on one elbow and his face hovered over mine.

"Listen, Mack," he whispered, his breathe minty and cool, making my breathe hitch, "You can do this, I know you can."

His voice was so soothing, so calm. It relaxed me, only for a few moments. I could feel my shoulders begin to slouch from relief, but my breathing was still heavy, and our proximity did not help that at all.

Although I was trying with all my might to avoid his gaze, something in the back of my mind kept pushing me, convincing me to stare into his coal-black eyes.

And of course, the voice in the back of my mind always wins the argument, and my eyes suddenly flicker from the ceiling to his dark eyes. But this time, his gaze wasn't cold and stone-hard; instead, soft and inviting.

We stayed like that, the sound of my heart beating filled the room seeing as his was not beating at all. Understandable, seeing as he's already dead.

And I've only got thirty more days until mine stops beating as well.

At that thought crossing my mind, I would've thought that I would've gone mad again, but instead, I replayed Death's words in my head. They were calming, and powerful, coming from the guy who brought me here in the first place.

My mouth formed a thin line, and I wasn't sure what this intense stare-down would lead to. I was almost shaking at the thought of anything happening, actually.

"Well," he whispered ever so slightly, I barely caught it. The sound of his voice somehow made me yearn for more and I was afraid of these thoughts, seeing as he could easily read them. But, of course, good moments can never last with this guy, "How's that for helpful?" He abruptly asked, pushing himself off the bed in one swift movement.