A certain (smexy as hell) Shinigami enters the scene^^ Hope you enjoy it!


Chapter II

A Touch of Silver


Grell hit the snow covered rooftop with such severity that he was unable to breathe for several seconds. A piercing pain rankled through his aching lungs while all remaining air was pressed out of them at one single blow. For a moment his already blurred vision got entirely white and hazy. A startled, desperate gasp for sufficient air was all Grell was capable of, while lying there petrified, staring at the starless sky and the ghostly moon above him.

Just what the hell was that?

He could still feel the adrenalin pulsing frantically through his veins and unwillingly he listened to the violent throbbing of his own heartbeat behind his temples. His ribs hurt terribly with every single breath his trembling body took. He couldn't tell for how long he had been lying there when he could hear the rhythmic click-clack of approaching heels right next to him. Ignoring the fast worsening headache he managed to turn his glance to aside – facing a pair of black leather boots with straps attached to them.

Was his shaken brain only imagining it, or did he just hear a gentle chuckle?

"Well, well…"

The soft, slightly mocking voice gave him shivers down his spine. He had to swallow hard to clear his throat from something that definitely felt like a lump of steel wool, before he dared to take a glance at the moonlight illuminated slender figure, standing in front of him like an avenging angel.

Long legs, a black trench coat and a heap of shiny, silvery hair slowly waving in the icy midnight wind. Strong arms were carrying an enormous metallic scythe which the apparition was now placing airily onto its left shoulder.

Grell felt how his stomach was violently tensing up while he was staring open mouthed at the tall stranger whose face was the only thing he could not clearly identify. Just an unsteady reflection of pale light now and then told him that his opposite was supposedly wearing glasses. Eventually the other man's slight cough brought Grell back to life like a slap in the face.

"That was pretty close. Seems like you need a little more practise, my dear," the soft voice snickered mildly amused before its owner lent Grell a hand, pulling him up onto his wobbly feet with ease.

He sounds like he can just barely restrain himself from laughing out loud… damn it!

Grell bit his lower lip in withhold anger, stoically ignoring the coppery taste of his own blood filling his mouth, resulting from this action.

"But for your mitigation I have to admit: Cinematic Records can be a real pain."

Green.

A deep green glimmer shone through the glasses of the reading aid when Grell finally dared to risk a closer look at the decisively taller man.

"You're a Death God!" Grell screamed and became embarrassedly silent at the same moment he had uttered these words - stating the more than obvious.

Oh~ yes Grell… who would have guessed? He's all dressed in black, wears glasses and can see Cinematic Records. Oh and before I forget: HE'S CARRYING A GODDAMN, HUGEASS SCYTHE WITH HIM!

"You're quite a sharp one, hm?" the silvery haired man grinned wryly. "I'm surely not wearing this just on display." Incredibly long, thin fingers almost gently caressed the enormous blade of the scythe.

"I would never have guessed…" Grell hissed annoyed, scolding himself for his damn loose tongue in such humiliating situations.

Oh yes, these well-known humiliating situations. Just like this one I am up to my throat into!

"Of course my dear, of course", the taller one just chuckled, grinning a wide, uninterpretable smile when he let go off the scythe's blade and adjusted his glasses.

"Then might I ask who I have the honour to encounter at this time of night?"

"Grell. Grell Sutcliff… Grim Reaper in training," the addressed one's raspy voice mumbled tonelessly.

"I see~"

Skeleton like fingers with sharp, black fingernails curved around the small, metallic frames of his rectangular glasses. The green eyes seemed to glimmer a little darker when the older Reaper eventually began to analyse the redhead with mild curiosity.

"I guess you were supposed to reap this poor creature down there on the street as part of your final exam, weren't you?"

A vague nod was all he got for an answer - Grell did not even dare to look down to the boy who was probably still in his death throes.

"And you failed miserably."

"Who do you think you-"

"Fu, fu, fu~," the silvery haired man's croaky laugh just chocked off Grell's spontaneous emotional outburst. With a suddenly stern voice he simply added:

"Well then, Grell Sutcliff… I think you need a private lesson in how to deal with these tedious Records."

"Beg your pardon?"