William had handed Grell his assignments with the same dull look as usual and Grell had complained in his overly dramatic way. Soon, however, he found himself shaking violently, having seen the name on the now crumpled pagers.
He only had one assignment today, oddly enough, and, in normal circumstances, he'd be overjoyed. Less work meant more quality time with you, his very favourite human. Except the one person that was scheduled to die was none other than you.
You, his darling (y/n).
Tears were free falling from his long lashes, but he did not scream or wail, which was rather unusual when considering who the grim reaper in question was. Instead he vigorously shook his head from side to side. What would you say if you saw him bawling like the drama queen he was?
Man up! It's not the end of the world, Grell. You'll wake up fine tomorrow, anyhow.
His quivering lips lifted at the corners slightly in a not-quite-there-smile. That's exactly what you'd say if you saw him that very moment. Only you wouldn't know how much it really would rip apart his world, his heart. Why?
Because he still hadn't told you how he felt about you.
Standing up from his pathetic spot on the ground, he squared his shoulders and tried to smile, beam, at least smirk, though his vision remained blurred. He was scheduled to kill you much later that day, in early evening, though to him it felt like mere minutes away. He'd spend the day with you, he decided, and he'd make sure you were happy.
Because (y/n) deserves a happy end, he thought as he walked out, wiping away his tears. Nothing but the best hours of her life.
And that's exactly what he did. He showed up at your front door out of the blue, cheering about how he had so many things for that day, for you and him. He could tell you wanted to ask about his puffy eyes but didn't in the end. You knew how it upset him when you nagged him about such minor things. So, without so much as a complaint about how early it was or how he was inserting himself into your life (again), you marched to your room and dressed yourself in a casual (f/c) outfit with a (s/f/c) sash. Then you two were on your way, rushing around town to your favourite places, laughing and smiling all the way. More than once you had caught Grell staring at you, an unreadable look in his eyes, and you'd flush a darker shade of red each time.
Then came early evening. You two were taking a leisurely walk in a beautiful park, the sunset painting the sky a warm peach color, giggling at just about everything the other said when Grell took you by the arm and pulled you into a maze of hedges and trees. You both ran, for what reason you didn't know, and you only stopped when you had lost track of how many lefts and rights you had taken. Grell's gold and green eyes met your own (e/c) ones and you watched in confusion as his eyes watered slightly. "Grell? Is there something bothering you? Is that what all this was?"
He blinked, looking away. "It's nothing, (y/n)," he said with a little less cheer than seconds before. "It's just that my assignment at work today was rather hard."
Yes, he had told you he was a grim reaper. In fact, the first time you'd seen each other was when he'd gone to collect your grandmother's soul. While you'd been a little shaken at the news of your grandmother's death, you'd quickly warmed up to the red head.
"Assignment?" you inquired, trying to see into his eyes a little clearer. "I thought you said you had no work today." You paused to cast a sceptical glance. "You didn't skip out on your job again did you?" He looked back to you, meeting your gaze evenly, and you were startled by how intense the emotion in his eyes were, the affection. He pulled you to him, wrapping his toned arms around you in a warm embrace, almost warmer than your cheeks at that moment.
"(Y/n)…" he whispered, not trusting his voice from cracking, "you know I've always loved you right?"
You tensed before nervously relaxing. "I love you, too, Grell," you murmured, confused when he shook his head. "No, no, no, (y/n), I mean I really, really, really love you. More than anyone in this world. More than Sebby and Willy, a thousand times more." You said nothing but he soon felt your grip on him tighten. He pressed his lips to your temple sadly, exhaling.
"Please remember that always, darling."
A mechanical whirring started and, before you knew what was happening, he lashed out at you, leaving a horribly deep mark from your shoulder to your hip, gushing red blood, red-hot pain. Without a word, you grew limp in his embrace, eyes still wide in surprise and lips parted as though you'd been about to say something. He looked down at you, ignoring the cinematic records floating out you slowly and feeling his eyes burn.
He didn't want to see your past life, he wanted to be your new life, your future.
Your blood, your red, red blood was soaking your pretty (f/c) dress, and he cursed his beloved hue for tainting your favourite color so inconsiderately. The bright scarlet didn't suit you in the least and he hated how you were forced to wear it that moment.
Grell felt tears, big and wet droplets, scouring down his flushed cheeks and he wished more than anything that you'd sit up and tease him about being a crybaby that second, to scold him to get back to work that instant. He whimpered and, leaning down so that his lips brushed your ear, he whispered hoarsely, "(Y/n), darling, I know you never thought much of it, but please, let me cry this once."
And that's exactly what he did. He hugged your lifeless corpse to his shaking body, and let out a pitiful wail, screaming into your (h/c) locks and wishing you'd wake up. Or rather that he'd wake from such a nightmare.
He never did wake from the painful reality, however, and when he was all cried out for the time being he lay next to you on the grassy floor, drifting off to a peaceful sleep with a tear-stained cheek pressed against your own and his fingers interlaced with yours.