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His reaper: Change
"Again, I am not surprise." he smiled into his cup. Grell knew that Will was rather straight-laced, he liked things in order and have work come first and in proper sequence. He wasn’t one to deal well with chaos. He swirled his finger on the rim of his cup as he continued to watch Will with fixated eyes.
"…that’s not true…" he whispered. “Because if we were to ever become mortal…I would still find myself coming back to you." he smiled up at Will. He was ready for the reaper to roll his eyes and scoff at his hopeless-love sick fantasies but he didn’t care. Grell still believed that he and Will were tied together somehow. “You wouldn’t be alone Will. And who knows? Maybe I was born a woman as a human and then you and I would have gotten married and have several children!" he giggled softly. “I still dream of such things…but I am still three centuries too early…"
"Grell…", he just whispered, their eyes meeting for some seconds. I would still find myself coming back to you. Oh how much he hated it- this one heart-wrenching second in which he felt exposed. That one second when he was afraid that his deepest inner was visible. Was afraid of the storm deep inside of his storm, this chaos raging inside of a man as neat and clinical as no hospital could ever be.
"What would three centuries change?", he mumbled lowly to himself. Grell was like the apple on the tree of wisdom, waiting to be plucked, singing so sweetly to him, the split tongue of the snake tickling his ear oh so sweetly.
He brushed everything off at first, tried to convince himself that there was nothing.
And the warm breeze of affection turned into those raging storms of love, the devastating winds of lust, a tempest inside of his chest- and the constant fear of just letting go. Of letting it out. What would happen if he dared to open up?