This fanfic is dedicated to my friend, Hanna for always being there when I needed her. ^^ It feels like only yesterday since we met a year ago. *sighs deeply*

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little thingy I made!~ :D

Enjoy!

The Grim Reaper.

A figure feared by the old, sick, and dying. He is usually portrayed as a bare skeleton; its long bony fingers reach out to grab his collection of souls, whether old or new. He wears long flowing garments that cover his naked bones. In one hand he carries a scythe, ready to bring down on the souls of the innocent or guilty.

Yes, this is what he was supposed to be like.

But what stood before the trembling young man was anything but that. His skin had a tan to it; its dark blue eyes had almost a hypnotizing effect. Muscles stood out from his plain shirt. The creature before him was as alive like a human, he even looked human, but at the same time he wasn't.

"Arthur," Its lips whispered softly to him. "Have no fear."

The small blond shuddered; it was not his time yet! He shouldn't be here… he was too young. And yet, he remembered; death was no respecter of age. Infancy to the elderly, Death could take their life at any given moment if presented the chance.

"I will not harm you." he reassured, stroking the young boy's face. "It's not your time to go…yet."

Arthur blinked, still visibly shaking from the ordeal. "T-Then where am I?"

"You're in a place where all those waiting to recover to their bodies go. It's neither heaven nor hell, or the world of the living. It's like nothing…in the meantime…" The reaper pulled the Englishman into his arms, comforting his faint whimpers. "You'll remain here with me." Those deathly cold hands suddenly became warm to the young boy and soon he found himself wanting more of it; he wanted to be engulfed in death's presence.

"Hush…" the Reaper whispered, wrapping a finger around one of the blonds' messy locks. "Hush…I'm here for you. Until you go back." The boy nodded slightly, holding on tightly to the other's clothes.

"P-Please…don't let me go."

He granted his wishes, rubbing his back soothingly. How he wanted to feel this so badly...all these centuries, he hadn't been able to feel anything. As a Grim Reaper, he was destined for eternity to carry on the souls of the living to the other side, without any love whatsoever. Arthur Kirkland had been in a terrible accident; his body meeting a car of a drunkard that night. Aside from a few broken ribs and arm, the man would be ok. It was only a matter of time before he woke up from his slumber, which the reaper was disappointed to see happen.

"I've watched you in the world of the living, Arthur." he whispered. "I've watched you when you were a baby, as a child, as you blossomed into a young man. And in doing so…I've fallen in love with you." He looked into the Englishman's wet face, searching for any signs of anger, fear, or sadness. When he couldn't find any, he continued on,

"I want you to be mine. Forever. You'll have to go soon…but I want you to promise me, please keep my heart I offer to you.

"R-Reaper…" the Englishman began, but was silenced with a kiss from death. As those cold lips melded with his, he felt his entire sense disappear. The other pulled back, giving a small smile.

"Alfred. Call me Alfred."

And so it began as death began to undo his shirt slowly, unclasping those buttons one by one. The young boy made no attempt to break away as Alfred planted cold but soft kisses on him. Arthur shivered while Alfred touched his now naked chest, treating every single patch of skin gently. He suckled on those tiny nipples, caressing them with his tongue.

"Relax, it'll feel good." he said as he proceeded with removing the last bit of the Englishman's clothing. "Just think of it as a present for my love."

"W-Will it hurt?"

"Only a bit." he nuzzled the human's neck lovingly as he inserted himself inside the young man's tiny hole.

Arthur let out a cry, a mixture of pain and excitement; the other's length deep within him.

"D-Death…A-Alfred…" he mewled. "I-It feels weird…should we stop?"

"No…" he whispered into the other's ear "Y-You're so tight…"

And so it continued; the thrusting became harder and faster in a rhythmic pattern until another cry escaped the boy's lips, signaling that he had neared his end. Everything faded to black, only to be replaced by bright lights. Was he in the hospital? A doctor appeared in front of the room, smiling gently at the other.

"Are you ok? You've had a rough night it seems…you were tossing and turning before waking up with a scream…"

The Englishman slowly nodded his head, trying to recover from his own ordeal. Was it all a dream, or did he really meet the reaper that would eventually carry his soul onto the other side?

From the window, Death watched; smiling towards the dazed Englishman.

"I'll be watching you."

Years past an Arthur kept his promise to the deathly figure; whether he thought it was a dream or not, his heart would always belong to Alfred. Or so the Reaper was certain.

The young Englishman had grown up; and was now a successful 23 year old librarian working at a quiet library on the busy streets of London. Arthur was proud to say that this library had almost everything one could need for well, just about anything…cooking, cleaning, research. You name it, and he would provide it. On this particular day, he was carefully reading a book, when all of a sudden the desk bell rang.

"Pardonnez moi, monsieur." spoke the silky voice. "Is that the new edition of Les Ville?" Arthur turned a deep shade of red and quickly hid the book underneath the desk. "Er…no."

The Frenchman chuckled softly and reached for the book. "As I suspected, it is." He handed the novel back to the startled librarian. "You have very exquisite taste, mon cher."

"T-Thank you?" he brought his attention to the stack of books the man had gotten, most of them were erotic which Arthur couldn't really say anything to, being a frequent reader himself. What really caught his eye was that he had gotten so much; about twenty or so.

"Were you planning to check all these out; including the…adult ones?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Oui, c'est vrai." the customer admitted, playfully holding his hands up. A blush of embarrassment crept across the Briton's face.

"Terribly sorry; I shouldn't be asking you these questions…" The Frenchman laughed.

"Non, it's ok; 'ou can't help but be curious. Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy, et toi?"

"Arthur Kirkland." the Briton replied, shaking the other's hand.

"Well Arthur Kirkland, I'll be sure to return these in a week. Au revoir!~"

Sure enough, seven days past and the Frenchman was back with all of the books just as he had promised. Arthur inspected them; looking for any torn pages or dog eared ones.

"You've seemed to have kept these in tip top shape; impressive." he noticed. Francis gave a wink.

"But of course; they are your books after all. But no matter, I have more to check out." he said, holding up a fresh stack of novels. Arthur nodded, checking them out. When he was finished, he handed the books to the other in a bag. The man bowed his head with a quick "Merci." and was off before the Englishman could return what the man had accidently left in one of the returned books.

"Mister Bonnefoy, you left…your rose…" he studied carefully. It was the color of the finest of blood red wines which would soon wilt to nothing if not supplied with fresh water. Sighing at the man's impatient nature, he popped the flower into a vase right behind him. He was sure it was just an accident. In any case, Francis would be back within days…

However, every end of the week was the same. The Frenchman would return his books, but would also leave behind a fair rose. Did he use them to bookmark his pages? Arthur never had time to ask, the other was always out the door before he could utter another word.

Finally after the 5th week, Arthur grabbed the other's arm quickly before he could grab the bag. Francis gave an amused glance.

"Listen, why do you keep putting a rose in one of your books? Is it used to save the page you're on?"

Francis gave a whole hearted chuckle. "Non, non….would you like me to show you why?"

Arthur gave a slight nod. The smile on the Frenchman's face grew wider. He leaned forward, placing a kiss on those soft pink lips. He pulled back in time to see the Englishman's face grow red. "Je t'aime." he whispered.

It seemed like the librarian's world had stopped and was now fixed upon those seconds. What did he mean? How could you honestly just look at someone for a couple of weeks and confess you actually loved them?

"Why?" he finally breathed.

"Because," Francis began, placing his hand in the others. "I've grown quite fond of seeing you almost every week. You're also cute; something I can't resist." when the other didn't respond, he leaned in for another kiss. "You're lonely too, oui? Won't you give me a shot?"

The Englishman nodded his head slowly. "A-Alright…but, I…I…"

"Hush." the other said, placing a finger on Arthur's lips. "Just come by my apartment at 8. I'll be waiting." he winked before handing his address to the dazed man. With that, he walked out of the library, a confident look upon his face. The Briton stood there, unable to believe what had just happened or what he just agreed to. There was no way that whatever those two would get into would last a lifetime.

But fate had a different plan than the Englishman did; he eventually fell in love more and more with the man with each passing day; to the point where he forgot about his ordeal with Alfred.

But Alfred didn't forget him.

It sickened the Reaper to the core to see his English beloved in the arms of someone else other than his own. How it pained him that he could never be human; how he could never have what was in front of him right now.

True love.

No, he wouldn't accept it; he wouldn't let anyone else have his Arthur. Arthur was his; he had his heart…

But as many times as he repeated those words in his head…the more it seemed to be impossible. Francis had the Englishman in his arms. And it seemed like this would they would never let go…

And then one day, the question the Reaper dreaded sprung up right in front of him. He watched as the two were positioned just near the Frenchman's apartment window. The night was clear, and the moon shined down upon the lovers; approving of their love for one another.

"Mon petite rose de l'anglais," Francis held out a velvet box with a ring in it. Placed in the center was an emerald stone, the color of his lover's eyes. "Veux-tu m'épouser?"

A mixture of astonishment and joy lept from the eyes of the Englishman. He wrapped his arms around the other, kissing him lightly on the lips. And with that, he uttered those words that Alfred so dearly hoped would never happen.

"Of course I will."

"Tres bien." the other smiled before giving his own kiss to the Englishman. Glancing at the clock he frowned. "I must get ready for work now…you know how the café loves to get busy during the night shift. Will you wait for me tomorrow; say eight o clock in the morning?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I'll stop by your place. Is that ok?" Francis chuckled.

"I wouldn't want to 'ave it any other way."

And with another kiss, and a simple goodbye, Arthur left him alone. There would be plenty of time to rejoice in the morning.

Within the shadows the Reaper watched; a slightly delirious smirk graced his lips.

Perfect.

Silently he walked into the man's residence, a scythe in one hand; one of the most useful tools for a grim reaper such as himself. The man quietly made his way up the bedroom and entered.

Francis didn't even see it coming; before he had a chance to turn around to find the uninvited guest within his home, the blade had already met contact with his flesh. Red splattered the floor and walls as the weapon tore through the man's abdomen. Alfred removed the blade from the other's body, only to bring it down on him again, this time only managing to cut through his legs. Regardless, the damage had been done. There the Frenchman laid, looking up with sapphire eyes forever frozen in terror at his murderer. The reaper's cold blue eyes looked down at him; no hint of emotion to be found.

When he saw his beloved's lover on the ground lifeless, he knew it was over. The person that was in his way was gone; he was dead. And with that, Death threw his head back and laughed over the corpse.

The next morning Arthur came upon his dead lover's doorstep; opening it only when the Frenchman didn't answer the doorbell. Perhaps the man wanted to surprise him with a kiss, or maybe even a celebratory breakfast. After all, they were getting married in due time.

However, the familiar smell of crepes didn't warm his nose, nor did he feel those almost angelic pink lips upon his own. In fact, the Frenchman's presence was nonexistent in the house, filling it with a dreaded, foreboding silence. He walked up the stairs into the place where the murder took place only hours ago.

"Fr-Francis?" he asked hesitantly before opening the door.

The viewing for the Frenchman took place the next day. Admirers of him from all over gathered around to mourn. The only one not among them was Arthur; he couldn't bear to see the cold corpse of his beloved in a casket; at least not with people around him.

Once everyone had left, the Englishman found himself stepping into the church. The casket was still there, bestowed among a bed of red roses; the flower that started their undying relationship...

He looked at his lover's peaceful, stroking the other's blond wavy hair fondly.

"Red, the color of roses, of my blood, of our love." He took out a vile filled with crimson liquid buried deep within his coat pocket. Inside was poison, something he had picked up only hours before at the nearest dark market. He uncorked it, dripping it on the other's cold lips before rubbing some on his. Leaning in close, he gave a kiss.

The poison took a toll on the other's body as soon as their lips met. He began to feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. Arthur collapsed right next to the dead Frenchman, looking up toward the beautifully decorated ceiling and lights. "I'll see you soon, my dearest rose…"

Just like that Alfred appeared in front of the other's dying body; horrified at the sight of him in this state.

"Why would you do this? Why would you sacrifice your life for him?" he bellowed.

Looking up at the horrified man, Arthur managed to move his lips to form a small genuine, yet painful smile.

"Isn't that obvious? It's because I love him." And with that, the Englishman was silenced forever.

Alfred watched silently in horror as the young man closed his eyes for the last time. His beloved couldn't die; it wasn't his time! Yet right in front of him, he watched as the green orb of light rose out of the other's beautiful body and floated towards the window. There, waiting for it was another orb of light, only to be a beautiful shade of sapphire. The two drifted away, out into the night; to be together forever.

Only then did it dawn on the reaper as their souls danced around each other that even death couldn't stop love. And that death was cursed to forever remain lonely, doing his job without any signs of mercy or compassion…

Or love.

And that's that! ^^ I hoped you liked it Hanna!~ And again, happy anniversary!~ 3333