Hey, so this is off a prompt I saw on tumblr. The link is:
art/Elves-hunter-25458029
It'll just be a short one shot, but enjoy!
And if your wondering, it's characters are from the book 'The Book Thief' (I am continually spelling thief as thief. God help me learn to spell).
Weary Wanderer
He was tired.
He was tired of waiting, and watching, and seeing the pain and shock and love and hate running across people's eyes. He had never had the chance to feel those things, never had the chance to say 'I love you' to someone, or to scream and cry at the top of his lungs. He had never gotten a reassuring kiss from a mother, or a pat on the back from a father. Never gone to school, or spent countless hours playing with other people. When he was brutally honest with himself, he could realize that he was jealousy that other people could feel this, and sometimes he wondered if envy or jealousy was the only feeling he would ever experience.
After eons and eons of being an unseen, unknown shadow, he relished the chance to talk to anyone, be it a prisoner, or an old maid, or a young child. He didn't want to watch time go by, just a silent viewer. He wanted interaction with people, no matter how long or short it was. Anything to get him thinking outside the purgatory that was his Hell.
He wanted to spend one day just being a normal person.
And the fact that Liesel was sitting up, waiting for him when he came, made his existence just a little brighter.
They spent the day together, walking and talking about the book that she wrote, all those years ago, and about her family. She asked him about his job, if he was getting weary, and he just kept a poker face and didn't tell her that yes, he was tired, and that he wanted to stop. Because if he did, then Liesel would obviously think of some way to help. And that was the one thing he didn't want. He didn't want her to waste her time trying to find a way to free him from his confinement, to help lighten his load. He didn't want her pity (but deep down inside he knew she would never pity him).
They spent the day doing things that he had wanted to do with someone, someone who understood him, and how he felt, how it felt to be alone. They went to a book store, a park, a harbour. They stopped at her house, and observed the people inside.
But he knew when the day was over it would be time to leave. Behind the normalcy and the kindness, and the smiles and the laughs, there was a tenseness that he knew both of them felt. Liesel wasn't a fool. But she was kind. And so when the sun was setting, she turned to him and smiled, making his job a little easier.
"You know, the first time I saw you, I didn't think anything of it. But looking back, I saw you quite often. I'll come visit you sometimes, I promise."
And then Death picked up Liesel's soul, and slung it over his shoulder, catching a smile on her face while doing. He picked up his scythe from the nether-region (his own private storage locker), and started the return trip to the other side. His back ached with the weight of Liesel's soul, and his arm tingled at the familiar weight of the scythed. He sighed. There were multitudes of souls to find, to catch, and to take. His free day with Liesel had been costly. Set him off track. He thought that it would be worth it, but now that she was gone, she was just another soul on his shoulders, he felt something akin to sadness. Death sighed. He started to walk, wandering onto his next appointment.
He was tired.
Like I said. Really short. But anyway, enjoy!