I didn't know what to say. I knew he'd felt my touch on the balcony, but I was sure he hadn't seen me. I had no idea when I had become visible to him.
"I know you're a Grim Reaper," he said calmly, looking right at me. "And yes, I can see you. I know it's strange for a living person to see one, but I suppose I'm being given some time to arrange my affairs before I die."
The words caught in my throat. What could I possibly say? The truth? Hi, I'm Cass, my life is a mess, I wished myself invisible, and now I'm squatting in your house? He'd throw me out in a second. Silence was the safer option.
He continued, misinterpreting my stunned silence. "Would you mind waiting for me in the living room? I'd like some privacy for the time being."
I just nodded and went, my mind racing. What was I going to do? And yet, a tiny, selfish part of me was thrilled. I had a person. Someone who could see only me.
I heard his footsteps approaching, pulling me from my thoughts. "Did I make you wait long?" he asked.
"No, no, you didn't," I said quickly.
"Are you a new Reaper? I saw you crying in the hospital."
"Uh..." was all I could manage.
"I thought so," he said with a grim certainty. "In that case, I want to ask you a single favor. I'd love it if you could just give me some time. Not because I want to live, but I need to find the best doctor for my patients."
At that, I couldn't stop myself. A tear escaped and traced a path down my cheek.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe my… my work is just too much for me to handle." I felt more sadness for him in that moment than I had ever felt for myself. He wanted to live, not for himself, but for others, and he believed he was replaceable. It broke my heart.
"I don't like being pitied," he said, his voice hardening. "So don't cry for me."
"No, no," I said, improvising wildly. "I was crying for your patients. Thinking about how they'll feel when you die."
"Don't worry about them. I'll find them the best physician," he replied. "Now, a second favor. I don't want you in my room. You might change your mind and decide to take me early. You can stay in any other room you want. Just not mine."
I agreed immediately. It was a bizarre negotiation. "Can I… can I stay in that room?" I asked, pointing to a guest room down the hall.
"Of course," he said. "It's the least I can do, since you're giving me more time."
I had no idea why he thought a Grim Reaper would need a bedroom, but I wasn't about to question it. I went into my new room and looked at the clock. 1:34 a.m. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I woke up feeling refreshed and ravenously hungry. In the shower, I noticed the numbness was gone. I could feel the hot water on my skin. It seemed my body was slowly returning to normal, even if no one but Ben-Oni could perceive me.
My stomach rumbled violently. I rushed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards like a starved animal, finding a box of dry cereal and a can of tuna. I was stuffing my face when a voice came from behind me.
"I wasn't aware that Grim Reapers ate. Especially so… aggressively. You're creating a mess."
I looked down. Cereal was scattered across the counter. I didn't have the courage to speak, but I forced myself. "It's just… I was human before. Sometimes I miss it, so I eat." I dredged up the line from some long-forgotten movie.
"Oh," he said, intrigued. "So you miss being human?"
"Not always. But sometimes, yes."
"Well," he said, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "It's good. I finally have someone to eat with in this huge house."
An idea sparked. "Do you want me to cook something for you? I can cook." The lie flew out of my mouth before I could stop it.
He agreed. He was heading to his home gym, which gave me an opportunity.
I needed to google a recipe, but I couldn't let him see me with a phone.
"Ben-Oni," I said, trying to sound solemn. "Before we… do things… we have to pray. Can you give me a minute?"
He looked at me, perplexed. "Grim Reapers pray? I see. Yes, I'll wait."
The second he was gone, I sprinted to my room, grabbed the phone I'd hidden under my bed, and frantically searched for the easiest-looking recipe I could find: Pasta alla Vodka. It looked simple enough.
I went back to the kitchen and began my culinary experiment. When I was done, he still hadn't returned. I wandered the massive house until I found the gym, just as he was leaving. My breath caught in my throat. His physique was even more impressive up close. I couldn't help but stare as he wiped his face with a towel.
"Are you here for something?" he asked, snapping me out of my trance.
"Yes," I said, my mind still fuzzy. "What is it?" he prompted.
"Oh! Right. I finished making breakfast. I came to call you."
"Let me take a quick shower and I'll be there," he said. I nodded and rushed back to the kitchen, my face burning. I hoped he hadn't noticed.
A few minutes later, he sat down at the table. I watched anxiously as he took his first bite. His expression flickered.
Don't tell me it's that bad," I said, my heart sinking.
He put his fork down. "Was this your first time cooking? Even when you were human?"
"Yes," I admitted. "I wasn't interested."
"And now you are?"
"Uh… I just felt like trying."
"Well," he said, pushing the plate away. "Thank you for the meal, but I'd rather not be drunk this early in the day. This tastes like pasta floating in a bottle of vodka."
I knew it was bad, but the insult stung. He was cold, but I hadn't realized he could be so rude. I took a small, defiant bite myself. He was right. It was awful.
As he saw my crestfallen reaction, something incredible happened. He smiled. Not a small twitch of the lips, but a genuine, bright smile that lit up his entire face. It was more radiant than the sun. In that moment, I forgot the insult, the awful pasta, everything. It was the first real smile I'd ever seen from him, and it was contagious. I couldn't help but smile back. I wanted him to smile like that every day.
I don't know where the words came from, but they tumbled out of me, earnest and clear.
"What do you want to do before you die?"