In the living room, Amon stretched his tired limbs, feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones. For a month straight, he had been leading souls, guiding the lost and the departed to their final destinations, without a single night of rest. Tonight, he decided, he needed a break.
Gregory, reclining comfortably in an armchair, glanced over at Amon. "You've been pushing yourself too hard, Amon. Even a Grim Reaper needs a break. Why don't you take tonight off?"
Amon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're right, Gregory. I need to recharge. I've been neglecting myself, and I'm starting to feel the strain."
Gregory's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint as he exchanged a secretive wink with Sicily, who was quietly reading a book by the window. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she caught his meaning, understanding the unspoken plan behind Gregory's suggestion.