For the rest of the day, I stayed in bed, curled up in covers, and drank some herbal tea. A lukewarm towel was placed on my feverish forehead. Rowan looked like a mother who was taking care of their firstborn child. I told him at least a dozen times to leave and take care of himself, but he insisted on staying.

Grandma, on the other hand, saw no problem with him taking care of me. She already imagined him as my husband. She only checked on me once because she didn't want to disturb us. That's what she told me in front of him. As if my reddened cheeks weren't in enough heat. It got to the point of him feeding me. And that's where I drew the line.

"I'm capable of eating myself," I said, grabbing the warm bowl of soup out of his hand. He let it go when he saw I wasn't letting go of it. He sat on the chair Keliah had sat on a few hours before.

"You're so stubborn. I'm just trying to help you. It's my fault you ended up like this." He rubbed his arm, avoiding my eye contact.

I lowered the bowl of soup and spoke. "Rowan, it's not your fault I got sick. The blame is on me. Besides, it's not your duty to protect me from every little thing. You're not my guardian angel or something." I explained.

He looked up at me, and a thought was behind his eye. His forehead created lines. "Does it mean I'm of no good use to you?" He asked, his voice higher. "I know I cannot destroy Death for you. But I'll protect you the best I can."

"Rowan, no. I didn't mean it like that. Of course, you're of good use to me." That definitely didn't sound weird to say out loud. "You've already done so much," I added.

I moved the bowl of soup to his hands, and he turned them around to hold it. He looked into my eyes wide-eyed. I raised my brows and let go of the bowl.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?" I softly said.

He laughed quietly and grabbed the spoon, slowly bringing the contents into my mouth. I parted my lips, and he gently inserted the spoon into my mouth. The whole time, he was piercing through my eyes. I swallowed the soup. I immediately knew it was made by him, not Grandma. His tasted just a bit better.

"I love your angel soup." I burst out after another swallow. He stopped using his hand to scoop the soup again.

"Interesting name." He remarked.

"I thought it through." That was a lie.

He didn't laugh like I expected he would. Instead, he cleared his throat, and when he spoke, it was in a serious tone.

"After I deal with Death," he started. "And everything will be settled; I'll return home."

What he was trying to say is don't get attached to me because I'll sooner or later leave and won't come back. It was written all across his face.

"Ohh, of course. I mean, sure." I stuttered.

Rowan placed the bowl on a nightstand and touched my hand, curling his fingers around mine.

"I don't know if I'll be able to return soon after that. But our matter with Death is far from resolving." He reminded. It sounded like he was happy, so he would spend more time here.

"I actually forgot to tell you something important, and I know how much you hate lies, so I guess I should spit it out." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My work here is not only regarding getting rid of Death. I'm also looking for demons, which escaped our cells and are very dangerous."

I took a sharp breath. Swallowing hard. Blinking repeatedly. "Demons? How do they look like?" I asked, trying to look composed.

Rowan straightened his posture. "Every demon looks different when it comes to appearance. The only similarities are their skin. Always black. Their eyes different neon color. The demons I'm looking for are crazy-looking. One is with a redhead." He laughed.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

If he only knew that the demons he was looking for were in this exact room a few hours ago, and the red-headed one sat on the same chair. Ironic.

I bit my tongue to not accidentally reveal the guilt. I could've spared him the work of finding them. But instead, I chose to let them go, and only because of my selfishness.

As terrifying as the thought of demons sounded, they weren't so scary-looking. Did I almost pee myself? Yes. Will anyone ever know about it? Of course not.

"Have they done something terrible?" I wondered, fidgeting with my hands.

"I don't think you would handle hearing it. It happened a long time ago, and they were paying for it. Now, they're running around this town to piss me off because I cannot locate them. Someone is protecting them."

And that someone we know very well.

"Who do you think is protecting them?" I asked, still not looking into his eyes.

"I think we both know the answer to that. It's Death, even though I have no idea why." He answered frustrated.

I laid down, and my head hit the fluffy pillow. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about those demons. Why do they have to watch me? What is out there worser than the Grim Reaper? And why is it after me?

Rowan suddenly tucked the cover properly around my body, and before he left, he quickly smiled at me. Why do I have the urge to smile as well when he does? His smile is contagious.

When the door shut, my eyelids got heavy, and I did not restrain them from closing.

• • •

AN HOUR BEFORE

ROWAN

"How's she doing? Did the fever go down?" Eleanor asked.

"She's a lot better. Would you mind if I prepared a soup for her?" I asked, approaching the dinner table.

Vivienne's Grandma clasped her hands together with a smile. "I give you my permission to use the whole kitchen." She replied. "It's usually me cooking because Lily prefers me cooking. She says she's no match for me, but I'm not a great cook."

I had no idea why she referred to Vivienne as Lily, but I did not ask. It was definitely a personal matter. It was her mother's name. She even chose it as a tag for her work.

I prepared the ingredients for the soup on the counter, and Eleanor took a seat on the kitchen island. As I was cutting some vegetables, she asked me numerous questions about my work and relationships. She was discrete with it.

"I apologize if I asked you about personal matters, but I think you figured out where I'm going with it." She said.

And in fact, I did. But that wasn't the main concern. I sensed something more worrying. Something was simply bad about her. Something rotten within her.

I chuckled and spoke, "You're flattering me. But I don't think I'm the best choice-"

"Don't say such things! You're the most brilliant choice, actually." She claimed.

I couldn't be. I can't ever be. Because I can't stay here and be with her. I like her too much. I love her dimples when she smiles and her gray eyes I could simply drown in. I can't resist her gentle touch. All that I want is her hands on me. Caressing me. Wanting me. I'm slowly becoming her slave. But only in my mind. I don't dare to say these words out loud.

How can a celestial being want to be under somebody's rein? I'm not allowed.

Because I'm already chained.

I stopped looking for the demons who left our cells the moment Vivienne and I were together. When she sat on my lap, and searched for any wounds. The moment she looked at me with relief, I came to save her from Death in the bar.

I couldn't care less for my work on Earth. I will make my work last the longest, so I can be by her side and protect her from Death. To find a way to get rid of him.

When I finished the soup, Eleanor came to take a look. When she tasted it, she was in awe.

"My goodness! You really cook better than I do." She tapped my shoulder a few times, and I felt proud. It was just a mere soup, but her praise meant everything to me.

"I'm sure you do better! It was just a simple soup." I said, trying to remain humble.

"Well, then I'll invite you for lunch someday soon. What do you say?" Her eyebrows rose.

"I would love that; thank you." I shyly smiled at her.

"Oh my! I'm so happy-"

It took a moment for my happiness to turn into horror. Eleanor lost her balance and almost fell to the floor. I immediately grabbed her hands and pushed her body forward so she wouldn't hit the floor.

She gripped my forearms, and her eyes shut. She wasn't feeling well. I sensed something that wasn't right, and it was her health condition. A dark energy radiated within her. Something rotten.

"Are you okay? Should I call a doctor?" I asked, helping her sit on a chair.

"No, no. There's no need." She replied softly, gasping for oxygen. "I have my medicine in my drawer. Could you get it for me?" She pointed to her room. I nodded and sprinted to get it.

When I got hold of it, the bottle was for vitamins. I returned to the kitchen. "You changed the bottles, so Vivienne wouldn't know?" I asked quietly, giving it to her.

She opened it and placed two pills in her mouth. I swiftly tapped the water for her to swallow.

She snatched my wrist, pulling me close. "She can't know about this. Let's keep it between us, please. I beg you?" A tear ran down her cheek.

"Is it fatal?" I whispered.

She remained quiet for a few seconds. "I don't know yet." And bowed her head. "Promise me you won't reveal it to her. She won't take this well."

After some thinking, I promised her I wouldn't say anything to Vivienne. Death was enough of a burden on her shoulders. Her hearing that Grandma is sick would make her sick as well.

I was the only stable pillar, holding her still.