Short and Sweet
II: Dinner with the Devil
Matthew was a cold, unmoving body laying on the bed of the master bedroom, lighted only by a candle on the bedside table. To his left, Alfred stood by the bedside, head bowed as silence engulfed the room.
On the other side of the bed, standing and basking in the solemn silence, was the cloaked figure of Death.
"I miss you, Mattie," Alfred whispered. He stroked the other blond's cheek carefully, lovingly. Then his eyes traveled upwards to look into the hooded face of the other presence. "What do you want..."
It didn't gratify him with a reply; Alfred tore his eyes away from the dark figure to admire his lover once again. He could remember yesterday: He and Matthew had just been eating ice cream. Matthew had been so vibrant, so happy, so alive. And yet at that moment-
"Alfred Jones," Death croaked.
Alfred's hand jerked back and his head snapped upwards to it.
"Would a human rather die with a soul, or continue living without one?"
Alfred's eyes flared. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Through the darkness, he thought he could see two glowing crimson orbs. "I am waiting for an answer."
"...I would keep living," Alfred kept his eyes downcast, "if I knew that there was someone who would make me feel like I did have a soul."
There was a sudden gust of wind, blowing the candle out. The room was cast into darkness, and Alfred could feel his heart start beating faster - he never was able to bode well in the dark. He wondered vaguely if the thing was still there, just standing, crimson gaze boring into him, judging, calculating-
"Alfred?"
Almost by magic, the candle was relighted.
Alfred found himself staring into the most beautiful indigo eyes he'd ever seen.