When Death Falls

The Return of Coffee

† The Return of Coffee †

† Mira's P.O.V. †

I woke the next morning unsure of what had really happened last night. Add on the massive drum section marching it's way through my head, and you can say I have had better mornings. A part of me hoped it had all been a horrible dream. The dead guy in my bar, the evil drinks at the other bar, him. Then that kiss. What do you do when Death himself, no matter how insanely hot he is, basically says he wants to disect you to see what is inside? Or that he actually wants you?

I know plenty of girls who would jump up and down at the chance, but I've never been one of those girls. I like my life. As messed up, as hard as it is, I liked it. Would other people? Probably not. It was boring and fun and as comfortable as an old pair of jeans. At least it was until recently. Now I've got a hot stalker who says he is Death. Now that's a name to scream out.

The thought of me screaming out Death in the middle of something fun, had me giggling. Which didn't help the super hero hangover I was rocking. With a moan, and a promise to never drink that particular liquour ever again, I reached for the bottle of water that was always present at my bedside. Only to find it wasn't there.

Where was it? In fact, how did I get home last night? Pulling back the sheets and standing up brought on a whole new question. Why was I naked? Ignoring the blood rushing to my face, I racked my poor battered brain for any memory of last night. Did he? Did we? Oh. My. Goodness. Dang it all. I prayed for a minute that I didn't. That we didn't. Surely if I was going to have happy fun time with a legendary figure who looked like a wet dream come to life, that I would remember, right? Right? I pattered to the bathroom, doing my business, washing the night off, gulping water from the cup at the sink.

Hydrated, clean, but still confused, I walked into my room covered in a towel to see him. Yes, him. Laying on my bed, his arms crossed beneath that head of his. A grin on his face.

"You know, you didn't have to cover yourself for my sake. Seen the show already." he said with a cocky grin. My face dropped at his words. My jaw might as well have been dragging the carpet like one of those old cartoons. Super attractive.

"You...I mean...what?" I sputtered. I know, just bringing those attractive points soaring.

"Are you always this brilliant in the morning?" He said, and no I didn't miss the sarcasm there.

"Well, when I wake up naked and confused, and without coffee, yes." I stomped to my dresser and grabbed at my clothes. Fück it. He's right. A vague memory began to surface of him bringing me home. Undressing me. He was sort of gentle. Like he was afraid of breaking me. Which he probably could. So, I gave him a pissy look and dropped the towel.

I did turn my back to him though. No need for all that now. I didn't miss the gasp and groan behind me as I pulled my clothes on. Enjoy the show? I wasn't quite brave enough to say that out loud.

Fully dressed and more prepared to deal with him, I turned to see him. His face was tense with some emotion I was afraid to name. A storm in those amber eyes of his. I had to know. To make sure.

"We didn't you know last night, did we?" I asked him. He looked a bit confused at my words. I can be so freaking childish. "Did we have sex?" There, like an adult. He lost that confused look and stood with a liquid grace. Stalked would be the word I would use for the way he came to me. Like a jungle cat in some far off land after prey. He stopped just short of touching me with that body of his. He leaned in close, close enough to kiss. All I had to do was move a fraction of an inch. Just a fraction of an inch to feel those same feelings I had last night. Whether it was the drinks or not, it had been the most amazing kiss of my life.