The Smell of Roses
He had learned to hope for thunder.
That night was terrible. Never had the house shook so violently before. The news earlier had warned that the tempest coming would be a maneater. Any idiots who strolled outside wouldn't stand a chance. That's why most of the city had evacuated, but Grell wasn't stupid. He'd lived in this city all his life, and grown used to hurricanes passing through. It had never flooded too badly, and all the buildings there were made to withstand high winds. The residents still left out of fear, despite the facts. Only the Grim Reapers stayed behind, because they'd been through worse than a silly storm thousands of times. They were the beings who judged a soul when a person releases their last breath, so naturally a storm was a mild obstacle.
Ion City, home of the legendary Grim Reaper Dispatch Society, wasn't scared in the least.
Tilting his head to glimpse at the window, Grell didn't flinch as lighting licked across the sky. It illuminated him as he laid in bed, red hair sprawled out around him like a halo. He closed his eyes as thunder rumbled against his home, and found himself unable to stop memories from floating into his mind.
The door creaked open and a set of icy blue eyes stared in. They scanned the room and then stopped on Grell's figure.
"Grell, can I sleep with you tonight?" a deep, but sweet voice asked, cracking a little. It was obvious the speaker was shaken up.
"Oh, that's right, you're afraid of thunderstorms…" Grell mumbled, sitting up and staring at the visitor. "Whatever. As long as you're fine with sleeping with a homosexual. Most men will be turned off by that factor, sadly."
"I don't care about that," the voice said, with a hint of laughter.
A woman bounded across the room, jumped onto the bed, and quickly disappeared under the lifted the scarlet comforter, revealing Diamond Iqus' face. She was only a year younger than him (which was around thirty four in human years), but with that adorable bobbed cut brown hair, she looked like a teenager. He envied her. She was a mage, one of the three other races that coexisted in the Immortal Realm. Grell was secretly relieved she wasn't of the other kind, a vampire. Three months ago, Diamond had moved in with Grell because she was helping with an investigation that involved the Reapers. The Dispatch Society badly needed her, and Will, the head of the department, didn't have any room to spare at his place, so Grell had, forced by Will himself, volunteered to house her.
She wasn't that bad, he'd come to realize. Diamond never hassled him about being gay, or constantly hitting on every man obsessively. She just stood back and giggled. That and complimented his long red hair whenever a man turned him down. Any normal mage would do the exact opposite, due to that strict ethical code of theirs. Even other reapers did, which bothered him to no end. So what he had different tastes than what was the norm? They were all dull hues to him, lacking the splendid color of red which made everything more lively. It was Grell''s favorite color, his soul color.
A clap of thunder issued from outside and suddenly Diamond tensed.
"Put it down!" she pleaded, grabbing the covers from him and covering her face.
"There's nothing to be scared of," Grell reasoned with her, prying back the covers once again. "This is stupid. You have to get over this."
"When I was little, I got locked in the attic during a storm," Diamond explained quietly, not looking at him. "It was a bad storm too. The attic's window was the type that swung out… it was open and when I tried to close it, the wind ripped it right off its hinges."
"How old exactly were you?"
"Seven," Diamond answered. "My brothers locked me up there. Men can be stupid."
"Can't they?" Grell related, and put an arm around her, drawing her close. "You can sleep here every time a bad storm hits, but just try to get over the fear bit by bit, okay? What's happens if I actually do have a man over when its horrid out?"
"Then I'll cry and not sleep at all in my own bed," Diamond said, snuggling against him.
Grell frowned. "You wound me. I couldn't do such a thing to a fellow lady."
"Same here, if it would ruin your night." The mage smiled up at him, but the moment was cut off by another round of thunder. She instantly hid her face in his chest.
Smiling, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. The scent of rose petals hit him, and for a moment, his lips wouldn't leave her hair's soft touch. Then he jerked it back, dumfounded. Diamond hadn't noticed, too scared to notice anything.
Grell had, though. He had noticed that the scent of roses, on her, was beautiful. As more storms came, he found that the scent and twin blue pools were lovely when paired together. He grew accustomed, however, to seeing the pools shut, close to his own as their lips met. It was awkward as hell, but then again, that was the part he liked. He liked how crazy this was, that a brave little mage, so powerful that the Grim Reaper Embassy needed her help, was afraid of thunderstorms. How she loved to go shopping with him and didn't get angry when he took eight hours looking for the perfect red dress, no matter how "wrong" it was. How when he first kissed her, she didn't hate him. She just blinked, cocked her head, and then blushed the most gorgeous color in the world. Then, when he kissed her the second time, she kissed back.
More than anything, he adored the sound of thunder drowning out all sound as the smell of roses mixed with him, and lingered in his bed even on calm nights.
"Why do you always smell like roses?" Grell asked her, no thunder or lightning interrupting him that night. Everything was silent, as if even the stars were a little curious to know the answer and refused to let any clouds keep that privilege from them.
Diamond smiled, shrugging while she stretched beside him in bed. "When I first moved in with you, I was a little worried you wouldn't talk to me much. I mean, my favorite color is purple, I'm a mage whose work constantly gets in the way of having a real life, and my looks are completely average. I thought you hated women like me. So, I started to use a perfume that smelled like roses, because roses are red, and I thought you'd soften up to someone who had anything to do with the color red. I didn't want things to be cold between us, despite how different we were." She turned her face away from him. "I was your guest, after all. I didn't want to make your own home uncomfortable for you."
Grell stroked her neck, grinning like the Chesire cat. "How could I ever be cold toward you?" He leaned down and pressed his lips against her own, Diamond wrapping her arms around him out of habit. When they broke apart, after a minute had passed, Grell whispered into her ear, "The cold kills roses like you. I could never let the most beautiful of flowers be destroyed."
He gripped the covers, wanting to feel her warmth more than ever. It was right there for him to soak in...
The door creaked again, and Grell's eyes flicked open. He shot upright, catching his breath as the door inched further away from its frame.
"Daddy," came the voice of a little girl.
He exhaled.
The child poked her head in, green eyes worried and long red hair looking like a rat's nest. Behind her, a second child held onto the first's arm, her own longish brown hair covering her face.
Grell leaned forward, smiling soothingly at his twin daughters. "Yes, Scarlet, darling? What's wrong?"
"Well, um, Rose is scared-"
"I am not!" Rose cried, but when she locked eyes with her father, she darted past her sister and pounced up onto the bed, hugging onto him.
"Oh, so you just want to sleep with Daddy tonight because you love him so much?" Grell teased, wrapping one arm around her and holding her close.
"Yes sir! That's it!" Rose chirped, and wiggled her way under the covers.
Her father turned back to Scarlet. "Do you love me that much too?"
"Yes, but I don't need to-" Lightning, and then thunder, silenced her. She hurried to the bed and reached the opposite side of her father from her sister. "I do love you, Daddy! Can I sleep here tonight too?"
"Of course you can," Grell smiled.
They all settled in and, with both twins nestled up against him on both sides, Grell stared again at the window and watched lightning light up the world. The twins flinched and whined a little.
"It's a silly fear, darlings," Grell whispered, his eyes still on the window. "Just don't think about it."
Don't think about how she didn't leave after the case was solved. How she wanted to stay with him, forever.
Don't think about how happy they were when she found out she was pregnant, with twins!
Don't think about how the doctors started whispering behind their backs after every visit. Or about how she cried into his chest because they said there would be complications. Block out the part where they learned that one side wouldn't make it, and a choice had to be made. Just block out that part entirely.
Most of all, don't think about the last night, a disgusting, howling, stormy night. Their last night in a bed together, not in their own home but in a sick, pristine white walled building. Ignore the beeping of the machines around the bed, or the tubes in her arms. Forget what it really meant when she smiled at him and said, "I think I'm going into labor."
Don't think about her head falling onto his chest, after becoming a mother of twins, and limply resting there, peaceful despite the thunder outside.
Just don't think about it; it's a silly fear. Think of all the flowers that will come because of the storm's shower. Think of the smell of roses.