"Sebas-chan darling!"
Brown, wavy locks of chocolate waterfalls tumbled and splashed over the petite shoulders of one Isabel Whitewood as she turned to the right, her ears perking up to the sound on the white roof of a nearby bakery.
Smiling to herself, she continued to stroll down the cobblestone, a small, frilly parasol resting against her shoulder as her yellow dress flared around her in the London breeze. The voice had been passed off and named as a sound of the bustling neighborhood.
A few gentlemen tilted their hats to her, and she nodded with a small smile. A slight glow resonated from her cheeks when a man passing by smiled cheekily as he let his eyes wander. Turning away quickly, Isabel coughed into her snow-gloved hand as she headed toward the bakery.
"Oh-!"
She perked up again. Though this time it had not been the voice to captivate her, but a single, small picture fluttering through the breeze. Picking up the sides of her dress, she quickly moved to it, her yellow and white shoes dirtying as she made her way through the grass and away from the hustle and bustle of Market Street.
An oak tree grasped it, the boughs held proudly up into the sky as if it had won a few hundred pounds. "Oh dear," she said quietly as she tilted up on her toes and plucked it from the branches. Looking down at it, she blew a stray hair from her face.
An unwilling participant was what she saw. A small frown creased the edges of his features as he held a mixing spoon at the taker, a metal bowl of something in the crook of his arm. His mouth was partly open as if he were about speak. Looking to the corner of the picture, she noticed a tiny wisp of red hair.
"Give me that!"
Isabel turned to see a tall male with bright, glowing eyes and ruby red hair. He looked unhappy, but the frown obviously didn't suit his face. She caught a glimpse of something sharp between those plush lips of his as she tightened her grip on the photo. "Is it yours?"
He scowled as he approached her, a strand of dark beads rattling against his leg as he walked. "Give it," he said simply.
Something about this man sent her on edge. "Yes of course, sir," she replied with a small, inaudible gulp as she tried to hand it to him.
Snatching it from her grasp, the man studied the photo before screeching loudly, his eyes widening. Whipping back to her, he growled. "It's ruined! Ripped!" He shook the paper up in the air as if to prove his point. "I'll need to take another one! My Sebas-chan can't be seen like this!"
She didn't think that he wanted to be seen anyway, but she supposed that her opinion didn't matter in this situation. "Yes, I suppose you will have to," she bit out before she could stop herself, annoyance clearly heard in her tone.
He grinned as he dropped the photo unceremoniously on the ground. "Yes, you shall," he emphasized as he pushed his hair out of his face dramatically. Making another dramatic hand gesture, a small, colorfully painted camera popped into existence in the palm of his hand.
The burnette's sapphire eyes widened. "W-what are you?" Backing up a step, she bumped into the stump of an old oak tree and fell on her rump, a small hissing sound resonating from the back of her throat.
"What am I? Why, dear, I am a grim reaper. Grell Sutcliff," he continued.
"R-r-reaper?"
He tsked. "Yes dear, one 'r' is enough, thank you." Raising a brow at her clothing attire, he scowled. "You will not be capturing my beautiful love in a photograph looking like that."
His words stung, but she tried to pay it no mind as she slowly shuffled back, hoping that another person, another human would pass by. "T-then perhaps you c-could leave me be?" she tried, a small thorn pricking her palm through her cheaply made glove.
"Ah, I suppose I could lend you something," the redhead continued to himself, completely ignoring her almost silent plea. Looking back to her, he started to approach. He grabbed her arm and flicked his wrist, a shimmering circle popping into life before him. "I normally wouldn't care for a human in helping me, but I suppose now would be alright," he commented as he walked through the portal and pulled her with him.
Isabel painfully landed on cool, hard flooring. "Woops! I let go of your arm, didn't I?" She grimaced as she realized he didn't exactly care. Getting up and dusting off her now dirty dress, she looked around.
A regular office.
Grell turned to Isabel. "We need to be quick, dear. Will doesn't know I keep clothing in here, and he could enter at any time." A hint of a warning was laced with his words, putting her on even more edge.
Opening a drawer behind some files, the reaper pulled out a few extremely short dresses. Studying them, he put two of them away before holding out the last one for her to see.
Her cheeks churned rosy. "I-it'll show my legs!"
Grell scowled. "And what's wrong with that?" he replied, moving to pull off her current attire.
"W-w-what are you doing!?" she screeched as she tried to hit at his arms.
"Shush, dear. William could hear. Besides," he continued, grinning, "we're both ladies." Isabel didn't think so.
"Let go, please!" she pleaded as he slipped the dress off, leaving her in only her white corset and short bloomers. Her cheeks immediately turned into tomatoes as she struggled harder.
"If you continue to struggle I might decide to kill you," he hissed into her ear, pleased with himself as she immediately stopped. "Now…" He quickly slipped on the frilly red dress, the bottom of it only reaching her knees. "There we go, hon! You look beautiful!"
Discarding the yellow dress to a bin in the corner of the office, Grell grinned to himself. "How is it?" he asked her, a finger moving up to twirl a lock of red hair. All he got in response was a frustrated sigh which he soon returned.
"Who's in my office?" a voice suddenly boomed from the other side of the door.
"W-Will!" Grell shrieked as he grabbed her wrist and flung them through the portal just as the door swung open.
"Sutcliff!"
And the shimmering circle closed with a snap.
Isabel clung to Grell's arm, intent on not falling onto the floor harshly as they flew through the portal once more. Reaching the other side, she quickly let go, fear coursing through her veins. "W-who was that?" she asked fearfully, her eyes wide.
The redhead tsked. "William," was all he offered as he assessed her. "I suppose that will do," he continued, walking up to her and grabbing her arm again. "Let us be off then. I don't have all day."
Opening another shimmering circle, he flung them through once more, landing safely on the plush grass of the other side. Isabel glanced around as the grip on her arm tightened, wary of her surroundings. "Where..?"
The red reaper dropped his hold, dancing around in place with excitement. "O-h!" he screeched, shoving the camera into her petite hold as he bounded up to a small window set into the side of a large, inviting mansion.
Following, Isabel peaked in through the window, her gloved hand reaching out slowly to touch the cool glass cautiously as she peered inside.
The same scene from the photo.
"Hurry up!" Grell hissed, knocking her from her slight reverie. "Before he notices!"
Glancing around, the brunette lifted the camera up to her eye, her lashes barely brushing up against the colorfully painted wood as she struggled to keep it still. Moving the camera ever so slightly, the rays from the sun caught a piece of metal just right, shining it directly into the kitchen.
The raven inside looked up.
"Oh dear, pests again?" The demon smirked ever so slightly as he dropped his metal bowl and jumped up to the window just as the camera snapped.
Isabel jumped backwards into Grell, terrified as the demon was merely inches away. "P-p-please don't hurt me!" she shrieked quietly, trying to back up further.
"D-dear, we should get going!" the reaper yelled as he snatched her by her waist and bounded out of there. The demon did not follow.
"Must that pest of a reaper always interrupt me while I am busy?" he muttered to himself, going back to his baking.
Isabel huffed, pushing the redhead away from her. "H-here, take it," she said quickly, pushing the brightly colored camera into Grell's arms. "Now let me go home." She was no longer going to beat around the bush.
The reaper scowled, looking at the picture that popped out of the top. He growled lightly, turning to face the young woman as he crumpled the tiny, shiny photo into a little ball. "It's blurry!"
Horrified, Isabel took a step back. "I took it like you said; y-you never said it had to be perfect."
"It was implied!" he hissed before bringing a gloved hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine. You may go." A shiny portal snapped open just in front of her, causing her to jump, her shiny shoes skidding slightly in the greenery.
"Through there?"
He tsked. "Yes, yes. Go on before I change my mind."
Hesitantly bringing a foot forward, she stepped through the circle, hesitating for a second before being shoved the rest of the way in. Falling on her face, she groaned slightly as she moved her snow-gloved hands to push herself up, the portal snapping shut just behind her.
The oak tree.
"Are ye alright, miss? Ye seem ta be in a pickle, if I might say."
The brunette hesitantly looked up, but all she saw was a silhouetted figure against the sun. "Yes, yes; I'm fine," she reassured him as she tried to push up again. Her delicate arms failed her.
A mirth-filled chuckle resonated through the air. "Here, let me help ye." A colorfully-dressed man bent down, offering a friendly hand with a smile. Shyly grasping it, Isabel picked herself up, assessing her savior closely.
She offered a simple thanks.
"Twas a pleasure." The strange man bowed before walking off, the smile immediately leaving his face as a shadow fell over his eyes.
The lady watched him go, silently thankful that someone was willing to lend a hand. Dusting off her dress, she glanced around before quickly scampering off to her lonely home. No need to waste time and dawdle now.
Long fingers of dawn's first light struck the sky-scraping tower of Big Ben, the light hitting his face just as his largest hand moved passed the numeral six.
Isabel yawned, stretching her delicate arms above her as she glanced around the room drowsily. "Perhaps it was… a dream," she convinced herself, getting reluctantly out of her soft bedding as she let her bare feet strike the floor. She immediately recoiled. Cold!
After a second of grumbling, she reunited the bottoms of her feet with wood as she moved to the dresser, changing out of her nightgown and into something more suitable for a public presence.
In the corner of the room sat the carelessly tossed aside red dress. It laid forgotten as she slipped on a pair of shoes and started to walked toward her door.
Tap, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap.
A shingle slid down the roof and fell just outside Isabel's open window, causing her to jump back slightly in fright. Curious, she approached her sill, and immediately recoiled as another red shingle plummeted to the cobblestone below. She cringed as she heard someone shout from the first story below.
Looking back up and out, her eyes widened as she saw a certain redhead dangling on the edge of her home's roof. "Y-you!"
"Me."
Pulling her head back inside, she swept her hair to the side as she bit one of her fingernails on her right hand. "He exists!"
"I'm a lady, darling, not a man."
Sighing lightly, she sucked in a deep breath and poked her head back outside the window and into the chilly, crisp London breeze. "You're back."
"I am."
"Why..?" Her stomach turned fearfully as she awaited his answer.
He grinned as he held onto the stormdrain and dropped down, hanging directly in front of her bedroom window. "I wished to see you again. Having work to do can be dreadfully boring, so I'd hoped you would spice it up a bit." He winked at her. "Spend a little ladies time together?"
"Absolutely not."
The window slammed in his face, his grip on the rusty drain faltering before slipping. He plummeted, noticed by no one as he crashed painfully onto the cobblestone below. "How rude!"
She went into the next room and ran a hand through her long locks as she snatched an apple from her small kitchen counter and bit into it gracefully, wiping the juice running down her chin with a small cloth. The smell of fresh fruit wafted around her nostrils before it was gone, as she had lowered her hand.
Turning, she was startled as she noticed Grell leaning up against her white wall, casually painting his nails. "...How did you get in here?"
"How do you think?" His eyes never left his cherry red fingernails.
"...You have a good point."
He simply hummed, continuing on with his business.
"Do you plan telling me what you want?" she asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking warily to the colorful chainsaw propped against the wall.
Letting his nail polish pop out of existence, Grell glanced up at her from examining his nails. "A surprise, dear, a surprise." He strode over to her before grabbing her arm and jumping through a hastily opened portal. Isabel didn't even have the time to contemplate the situation.
The grin never left his face.