One night, just after dusk, Grell was wandering around London with nothing to do. He had just had quite a long day at work, and he really didn't want to go back to his home. He lived in a rather large apartment, right across from William's, and William was the last person he wanted to see right now. He didn't want to be alone, either, though. He needed someone to talk to. As he wandered around the town, his heels left marks in the snow. He hoped someone would notice him wandering around in such weather. Looking at his watch, it was nearly two in the morning, so he was sure that no one he knew would be up. At least, anyone he could recall.
He continued to aimlessly make his way around the dark city, passing a little shop that he hadn't been to in quite a while. He couldn't remember much about it, but he remembered the man who worked there to be rather attractive, so he approached the shop. It's probably closed. He thought to himself. But when he reached the door, it wasn't closed. Peeking through the window, he began remembering a bit more about this shop. He had ended up in a coffin there one day, because someone had mistaken him for being dead.
He hadn't liked the man much at first, but he grew to like him much, much more. More specifically, when he saw his eyes. He could recall the most beautiful, green eyes. He had fallen for that mortician the moment he saw his eyes. What was his name again? Simple- Undertaker. He scolded himself for not remembering. Finally, he knocked lightly on the door, his thin body trembling from the cold air.
The Undertaker was looking through his appointment book, seeing if he had any work to do the next day, when he heard a knock on his door. Before coming to the door, he chose to peek through the window, avoiding any unwanted company. He didn't recognize Grell at first, since his long, crimson hair was coated in a thick blanket of white snow. Wondering who this person at his door was, he made his way across the room, a creepy grin upon his face. Finally~. Company.
When he opened the door for the shivering man, the reaper quickly rushed inside, plopping himself down on Undertaker's couch.
"Why hello, stranger~. Who may you be?" The Undertaker chuckled, glancing at Grell through his thick, silver bangs. "Perhaps you'd like a blanket~? You seem a bit cold." He giggled, grabbing a black, wool blanket from a nearby coffin, and tossing it over his lap. It was a bit dusty from sitting in the coffin for so long, but otherwise clean.
"I-it's me. Grell. Grell Sutcliff." He stuttered, shivering slightly. He rubbed at the pale flesh of his upper arms, hoping the friction would warm him faster. He was wishing he had chosen to wear something a bit less revealing than the thin, red dress. Just as he was about to ask for a cup of tea, one was placed on the table in front of him. Smells like Earl Grey. He grinned.
"Ah, Grell~! I remember you. Quite an interesting one you were. You buried me in salt, yes~! How could I forget you?" He exclaimed, the mysterious grin still plastered across his face. "What would a lady like you be doing out in the snow at such an hour?" He inquired, stepping up behind Grell and leaning close to his cheek, his grin widening. "It's unsafe to be out at such an hour, you know." He whispered darkly. A dangerous man wouldn't hesitate to take a pretty lady like you away into the night~." The eerie tone in his voice made this statement seem rather scary as he traced his long, black nail gently over Grell's jawbone.
"Oh, please~." Grell sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes before taking a sip out of the tea-filled beaker in front of him. The steam from the tea melted some of the snow in his hair, leaving his normally scarlet hair more of a deep, blood red color because it was so soaked through. "Like any man would want me~. My Sebas-chan always tries to kill me, and Will is just cruel." A frown came to his face as he remembered the events that previously took place on that horrible day. Will… Such a cruel man…
"William is cruel to you? Why is that?" he tilted his head, unaware that Grell felt that way about his superior. "And don't say things like that, m'lady~. You're an amazing woman." He knew that Grell wasn't really a woman, of course, but he wanted him to feel better about himself. He didn't understand why Grell wanted so badly to be female, but he wasn't one to judge. He adjusted his black hat slightly, making sure it stayed atop his head as he leaned down to listen to Grell speak.
Grell was about to speak, but he started to feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He broke out in tears, his mascara running down his cheeks, leaving him a mess. He continued to cry and cry, sobbing until he felt a warm hand rest itself on his nearly frozen shoulder. He started to calm down, still sniffing slightly with silent tears falling down his cheeks.
"Darling, don't cry~." He frowned, lightly patting Grell's shoulder. "There's no need to cry. I'm here for you." He whispered gently, pulling the reaper closer, allowing him to rest in his lap. He couldn't bear seeing Grell crying like this. It was ripping his heart apart. Running his bony fingers through Grell's long hair, an uncharacteristic frown came to his face. Once Grell started to calm down, he placed his fingertips under Grell's chin, lifting his head to look him in the eyes. He allowed his hair to fall away from his emerald eyes, giving Grell an unintentionally intimidating look. "Now, now~. What's wrong?" he questioned, keeping his eyes locked on Grell's.
Grell averted his eyes to the floor, nervously fiddling with his hair until Undertaker grasped his chin tighter. He wasn't sure if it was the look in his eyes that was intimidating him, or the beauty of them. "I- I…Will…He gave me another pay cut. I can barely afford a-a few meals a week, and it's only a matter of time before I'm unable to afford my apartment. I-I'm not making enough money to keep up on my b-bills…" he stuttered, holding back tears once again. He was truly scared, for once. And Grell wasn't scared of much. He was scared of what would happen to him if he were to be unable to pay for even a small apartment.
Undertaker gave a soft sigh, pulling Grell closer to himself. No wonder why he's so thin… He frowned, stroking Grell's back soothingly, looking towards him. "Grell, dear, how long has it been since you've eaten?" There was a worried tone to his voice as he ran his fingernails over Grell's visible ribs, frowning. He wasn't even close to gaunt looking yet, but certainly a bit thinner than usual, and this concerned Undertaker greatly.
"A-a week or two…" he muttered, rivers of tears running down his cheeks. He looked up at Undertaker and he could see the troubled look in those beautiful green eyes. Could this mean he really cares?
"I'm making food for you, m'dear. What do you like?" he asked, one arm curling under Grell's knees, the other beneath his neck as he lifted him off the couch, bringing him to the kitchen.