Drunk

He sniffed his nose at a couple of inches and let a curious look shot at Ellen.

"Are you drunk?", that's why he leaned in over her face. He knew by the way she was acting, he just wanted to be sure of it.

When Ellen nodded, he drifted backwards unhurriedly as they both stood in a straight posture. Ellen held onto his hand when she was about to fall, again. Grim walked her to the couch and seated her there.

"Coffee or water? What do you mortals drink when you're drunk?", he had seen countless people getting wasted, fighting over money, later on, even fucking others in their unconscious state of mind but he never got to take care of any of them. Those were the people he was sent to write names in the Death Note. He would simply write their names and all done. He could've done this right here as well but he didn't.

In the morning, he made his mind that he would write the name of the little fawn in the Death Note after inquiring about the masked man she exclaimed to catch a brief glimpse of. But when he saw her gloomy face, he put the plan on the back and decided to go with the current circumstance.

However, in midst of everything, what he was dismissing was the never seen and greatest misery of time counting onto remaining time to be stuck on him.

"Mo-mom dad", Ellen replied in a low tone.

"You want me to bring them?", dumbfounded grim asked.

"You can't stuwid. They died today", Ellen was starting at the photo frame that was hung on the front wall. It was taken a week before her parents died.

His blank expressions swiftly changed into utter surprise. Nobody, no mortal being had ever called him stupid. But this little fawn seemed to test his patience.

Turning face to grim and finding bewildered expressions printed over his face she continued.

"It's their death anniversary today", she said.

"They wanted to see me as a successful daughter but I failed", covering her face with her hand she started sobbing.

Seconds turned into minutes and her sobbings into low, pitiful whines. Of course, he had seen time playing ruthless and brutal games with these mortals but he never happened to face any of it himself. How would he? He barely acknowledged the dying persons before writing their names and proceeded ahead in his life. Crying, moaning, screaming, whining, waiting for death, not willing to die, he had seen everything. There wasn't any agony left unseen by him. But seeing little fawn crying her heart out swirled something inside him.

He didn't like seeing her crying. Something he had never felt before. He was just looking at the girl who was moaning over her deceased parents. He didn't know what to say or feel. This time his gaze wasn't playful or mocking one, neither an amused or cold one, only emptiness accumulating in there.

"Only if I had given up on my passion of becoming a writer, they would've seen their daughter as a successful literature teacher in their lives", her hands were still covering her tears-stained face.

How miserable life makes a person? First, you wish for something with all your heart. Then life snatches your previous thing from you leaving you to whimper over the past and making you regret the decisions that you've taken for your wish to come true.

"That wouldn't make them stay", there were thousands of scenarios playing in grim's mind. He was trying to recall those two faces in the frame. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recollect his memory of her parents. Like said before, he would simply reach on the spot of the incident to happen, write the names, sometimes the cause as well, otherwise, they would die of a heart attack and all done. Perhaps some other grim had taken the lives of her parents. Even if he had, he wouldn't remember it anyway.

But now he was getting to see a real behind-the-scene of people's families whose lives he would take without sparing even a second. To him it was fun and one of his sources of entertainment, leaving people crying for their loss for the rest of their lives.

"But they would be glad seeing me doing something they had wished for me", the place started filling with the faint murmur of voices.

"They would be happy seeing you going after your passion, becoming a successful writer", seeing a warm-hearted breaking right in front of you or giving them false hope. What was worst? Grim thought. It was his first time putting up with the person of a deceased, more terrible, the person was going to die as well.

The pain, remorse, suffering and discomfort, he could exempt little fawn from everything.

A Death Note, a pen and one time.

Everything in wait for grim. Within a minute, no, in a period of a few seconds he could free little fawn from everything. But what about her dream then? She would never get a chance of becoming a writer anyway since her time was short. Too short to someone's liking.

"You're right. They would be happy upon seeing me becoming a successful writer. I'll become a writer. I'll work my fingers to my bones. I-I will become a successful writer", Ellen closed her hands in a tight ball, brought her knees closer to her chest and hugged them.

Grim hesitation went disappearing in the air when he saw her soft features, red nose, flushed cheeks, eyes in which tears were shining, trembling lips as if waiting to be shut by another pair. He scooted closer towards Ellen and closed the written distance between them. Nothing seemed to make sense to him, nothing came across to question his next done action, nothing appeared to be more logical than pulling the vulnerable girl in his arms.

"The pain doesn't last forever. It will leave your body, little fawn", his one hand was holding Ellen's head against his chest and the other was snaked around her waist. He had never done that before. Mocking fun of people's miseries, teasing them, playing around, irritating the hell out of them but comforting a mortal being? No. You would find everything in the history of his life except this one.

Ellen, on the other hand, seemed relaxed. Hug. That's what she needed. Her friend, Chloe, was with her until the afternoon when it was time for her job. Though she was prompted to stay with Ellen, the latter insisted that she would go home and sleep. When she left, Ellen got submerged in thoughts and ended up being very drunk in a random club.

She cried her heart out at the chest of someone who was feeding her false hopes. But this time he didn't lie. Pain doesn't last forever. Once your soul is separated from your body, you don't feel the same pain anymore.

Grim didn't say anything further. Had his arms locked around her safely as if he was protecting her. How miserable of time. What could he protect her from? If the girl had any threat, it was from him.

The night spreading its wings, time flowing through the moments of unpredicted events, a furious, playful, cold as glaciers, hot as hell, grim reaper having a mortal being sleeping soundly being wrapped in his arms. Now, this wasn't even near to the least grim had ever anticipated. People would be scared of him, run for their lives, beg him, ask for some time but this little fawn was peacefully sleeping on his chest. Resting in the arms of her death.

It was pretty hard to swallow. Far-fetched that a mortal laying in arms of her death, wishing to live her life to the fullest extent, happiest.

Only if she knew.