Sebastian had never quite noticed before, but up close, Grelle was actually rather lovely. Those bright eyes—clear, Shinigami green, and ringed. Pale porcelain skin so ethereal it almost seemed to glow. Against it, thick eyelashes, long and black and striking. The teeth—the maddening, confusing teeth that fit perfectly together, perfectly white. From a distance Grelle had always seemed to him a messy mass of red, but up close, up very close, he could see the subtlety—the hints and shades of crimson, cherry, rose that played and blended together expertly, precisely. Up close, he began to perceive Grelle as Grelle perceived himself, no…herself. And she was beautiful.

"Sebastian?"

Grelle hardly ever used his full name, and as she raised an eyebrow he began to realize that he must have been looking at her intently for some time. A hint of a blush had crept up into her cheeks. Grelle had turned red over him countless times, but never with such modesty. Modest was hardly a word he would use to describe Grelle at all.

"Ah, forgive me." He cleared his throat, stepped back. "I…"

What? What could he say?

"I apologize. Do forgive me."

"You've never looked at me like that." She bent her wrist back, placed the hand on her hip and inspected him, her eyebrow still up in the air, accusing.

He looked back at her, mute. Still he had nothing to say. He would never lie, and the truth was far too strange to utter, so he kept silent. Slowly, an expression of clarity began to overtake Grelle's features. Her hand slipped from her hip, her eyebrow lowered. She understood.

"Sebastian?"

He turned on his heel and moved swiftly away, and if Grelle had been human he might have escaped, but a reaper could be equally fast as a demon, and Grelle had always been rather a quick draw. She caught his sleeve, slipped a grip around his wrist, and pulled him back, pulling herself forward.

"You usually look at me with such disgust."

"Forgive me, Grelle, and let me go."

He tried to move away, but she followed, and swiftly. Her hold remained tight.

"No."

Either he would have to fight her or attempt to explain his sudden change of heart, neither of which was possible. He stood motionless, staring at the ground. How had this happened? What had changed? As he thought back, he began to realize the slightest of shifts leading up to this moment—chance encounters with Grelle, finding her antics a little more amusing than irritating, a subtle shift in her conduct, a switch from sincerity to jest, and over it all a general lessening of his dislike until it had dissipated altogether without his noticing. How he had developed an attraction to her was another matter completely. One he could not fathom. It had come on rather suddenly.

He'd been too quiet too long for Grelle's taste. "Say something," she prompted. "So I know I'm not imagining things."

"I don't know what to say, Grelle."

"Well, think."

So demanding. That made him smile. "I…" He looked up to face her. "I had never noticed until now how beautiful you are."

The color drained instantly from her face, leaving her pale. Her mouth hung open a little. She was shocked. She'd chased after and teased him for so long, it had become a joke to her, probably no longer even a flight of fancy. He had always been a pretty face, something she could look at, but never something she could obtain. He would have said the same thing half an hour ago, and had he not been standing there at that moment, feeling the way he felt, would still be saying it now.

Grelle blinked. "You're serious."

"I am."

"How can you be serious?"

Sebastian couldn't help but laugh, a pathetic little chuckle. "I don't know. I can't explain it." He shook his head, but as he looked at her he had to smile.

She was astonished. "You really are truly and properly serious, aren't you?"

It was a statement and a tag question. She could see it in him well enough that he was serious. And she came forward, testing the waters. She was surprised when he did not move away, surprised when she put her arms around his neck and he allowed her, and surprised still when he put his own arms around her waist.

A self-deprecating laugh slipped from her lips. "I've thought a lot about what this might be like, but…never with any expectation."

"Do I really seem so distant?"

"Have you seen you?"

He laughed at that and drew her in, holding her quietly for a moment. She was cool, almost winter in his arms—something he had not noticed before but must have had something to do with her being a reaper. Was this what he wanted? Did he truly want Grelle? This path could lead him anywhere, but then…right now she was what he wanted. Would that be enough for her?

"I don't know if I can ever love you, Grelle," he said.

"I'm not asking you to love me," she replied and pulled back to look at him with an honest, open face. "I'm asking you to let me love you."

Well? There was no way he could know what he was getting himself into. A future with Grelle, a relationship, friendship, no, even a tolerance for her had once seemed out of the question. But now this garishness had turned to beauty, absurdity to charm. A creature he had once despised and detested was now someone he desired. Logic could not explain it, nor could reason piece it out. It was a phenomenon. But perhaps it had been a long time coming.

He cupped her chin in his hand and smiled. "All right, then," he said. "Love me."

"Hm-hm." Her lips curled up as she laughed, exposing her sharp, shining teeth. "Always have, Sebas-chan."

She placed her hand around the back of his neck and used it as an anchor to pull herself up to meet his lips. She kissed him then, and—despite all of what he had assumed was evidence to the contrary—was actually rather good at it. At first, it surprised him, but as she continued he became lost in it, lost in her, and he couldn't help himself—he kissed her back.