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He began with cautious small steps, tracing a faint path over your iridescent, intangible soul to carefully explore your daily life with the intention of learning how to repair those empty looks and concerns that seemed to plague your head with poison. He never thought it would be complex to break bad habits— he never had to deal with any in his existence, in his eyes. Yet your wobbly fingers and worn fingernails proved otherwise as soon as he opted to hold your hands as he heard your agitated breathing slip between your lips, accompanied by your eyelashes coated in a minuscule dew.
To him, you didn't look as different as the plants you care for, or the cat that insists on sleeping in your arms despite his multiple attempts to slide Azrael into her place; you were a mortal, erratic in life like a fragile anima wandering in limbo. Yet he considered you an enigma worth examining: as radiant as aurora yet as opaque as obsidian.
You were capable of smiling broadly, receiving the meals he had learned to make you because of joking that the first breakfast he offered you lacked even the slightest hint of flavor, or commenting on how his attitude often reminded you of a bitter cat, laughing as you called out to him in that little voice you used to use to make endearments to your pet, waving your hands in front of him.
You could also cry over the simple fact that you had taken responsibility for some important task at work, thinking you would ruin it completely, or had forgotten to give your cat her favorite snack for a day. You felt bad about inanimate objects and sometimes pouted slightly when you caught Casper questioning why you owned so many plants; they were irrational situations in the eyes of the former Grim Reaper, but they seemed to be the norm in your head.
And that in a way bothered him, for the conundrum that made up your mind was beginning to look like a riddle to him, no matter how much his attention rested on you for so many years.
"Are you sure about this?" you asked behind his back as he focused on the video teaching step-by-step how to cook a certain dish, and he swore he felt your soul crumbling a bit in anguish. "I didn't... I meant that breakfast the other day tasted bad, it's just... I wasn't used to the taste and..." your tone of voice was hesitant, adorned with faint sadness.
"No. I never perfected my cooking skills since I don't require eating, unlike mortals. So I see this as a good opportunity to do so." the long-stranded one commented determinedly, giving you a soft smile. "After all, I would like my Sunshine to be well fed." Soon your babbling would cease and you would watch him cook from a distance, attentive to what he was performing with some mixture of curiosity and mild embarrassment.
You would continue to dance barefoot over the burning, growing flames of your own expectations, which rested on your back in a scorching way, almost setting fire to that little energy you had left after a long day's work. You wanted— no, you needed, you saw it as an obligation— to be a better couple for the red-eyed man who waited for you in your apartment every night with something new to teach you, even if it was something minuscule for anyone.
Sometimes you cried under the shower water, with the sole intention of evading Casper's worried gaze despite being aware that that fragment of soul that linked to yours longed to know what was wrong with you. You didn't want to be the reason why his happy days crumbled like sand under the greedy waves of the hungry sea, born of your own anxiety; you didn't want him to feel sorry for you, and much less did you want to depend on him to be happy, for it would be unfair to both of you.
And especially for you, not being able to offer him anything in return for his kindness, for you think that all you could give him in gratitude would be mediocre.
He had taken the initiative to learn many things, for his well being and yours.
So you forced yourself to accompany him while he cooked or helped clean the home, with the intention of making those activities more enjoyable and familiarizing yourself with his routine, just as he did with you in the first place. You started setting goals and dividing up tasks to finish what you had to do faster, and soon you forgot why this had started as an obligation you had imposed on yourself— because lately you were having fun together with your partner. Every time you managed to do something new, he was watching proudly, and vice versa, hearing his praise you smiled without shame and your world became vivid, for it was unusual to hear such affectionate words directed towards you from someone so close.
It was no longer atypical to see you spending your time together, and Grim was happy for you for having started to break the iron of the cage in which you ended up locked after so long in solitude, something similar to him. You were stepping out of your comfort zone, and he was the first to notice those shooting stars lighting up your eyes as you woke up excited to do something together with him.
He was managing to draw a smile on your face more often and he liked that, as it made his heart jump with excitement, pulse racing in equal measure. He didn't mind exchanging a few teasing jokes with you where he would certainly end up with a pink blush populating his cheeks most of the time, for that would mean he could see you glowing like a firefly in a dark meadow, illuminating the landscape around him and spreading light to others.
But no matter how distracted you looked, blinded by the grace and divinity of the moon itself that rested with his arms around you; you knew that you were still blaming yourself for certain aspects, in front of barriers that you had built little by little to avoid hurting yourself, because your greatest fear was to lose one of your most precious treasures. The pot that rested next to your bed— now Casper's, too— was home to a beautiful flower, green stems holding delicate buds ready to bloom at any moment; so, like your relationship, they could be blown over by the slightest blizzard.
Ever cautious, you weighed your options on the scale of your conscience, silently. Most of the time it seemed foolish to hide so much behind your vocal cords, in your head, unlike the pale-complexioned one, who is incapable of pronouncing lies.
You would like to take a step beyond the domestic life you shared and those rare weekly shopping trips together. You had never been on a proper date— despite having imagined a thousand times the ideal place, the perfect time and even one or two things you could say to the man who had done so much for you— but the other side of the coin remained neglected at the hands of the irreparable insecurities that wrapped your heart in a shallow, throbbing shiver, growing like ivy over your lungs and throat.
You knew that forging expectations based on your own goals was the worst punishment you could give yourself, for you were ignorant of what destiny would have for you, but you still longed to have a future with the one with the captivating gaze and that was more than enough to motivate you to pursue that wish.
The idea wandered in your mind from autumn to winter, still unable to invite him. The thought was covered by a thin cocoon of indecision, which caused you to hesitate to speak and your gaze to rest on the ground; you wanted to be enough for him, no, the best for him, and yet you denied yourself the opportunities to accomplish something new because of seeing yourself as so far below average, when it came to love. It was a new, unexplored subject that made your figure tremble in fear as you realized that the person you became attached to in a short period of time might leave you for someone better, for someone who would be able to fulfill what they set out to do.
And that hurt.
"Grim, I...!" you spoke without thinking as you felt your chest ache, hands now clutching onto your clothes as you realized those crimson eyes were fixed on you, stopping everything he was doing to pay attention to you. "I... ah. I'd like to ask you out on a date..." you managed to mention in a thread of a voice, tone becoming a faint whisper with each word.
You blinked a couple of times, anxious eyes jumping from the floor to the nearest wall and finally glancing from the corner of your eye at the long-haired one, his cheeks tinged in a pretty shade of pink hand in hand with a puzzled expression, soon to turn into a cheery one. "Shall we go out now?" he asked in his velvety, soft tone as he turned to you.
You nodded several times to then leave your spot on the bed and head to the bathroom with a set of clothes you would change into to go out. You felt the warmth creep up towards your head and make your cheeks its home. "It's snowing...! make sure you put on something warm, okay?" you asked before closing the door behind you to finally slide down on it until you hit the floor, you had become a bundle of nerves in a matter of seconds because of an impulse.
Soon the night would meet the dusk and the stars would be the veil of the city dressed in white, buildings and homes stood between clusters of snow, accompanied by a low temperature capable of freezing anyone. You made your way along the path that led to a nearby park, covered in lights from the lanterns around them and the Christmas decorations that sheltered the trees. Your hands were intertwined in a shy but pleasant way, where you could feel Casper clinging to you with utmost gentleness.
"Casper..." you called out to him, mentioning his name almost in an inaudible small voice, afraid of how loud your own thoughts could become, of how much it hurt to love someone in such a strong way, of fearing the consequences of being almost dependent on the smiles he gave you like mellifluous poetry. "Really, I... I didn't have something prepared for the date and... and I just wanted to go out with you."
You felt selfish, because for you a date consisted of doing some special activity with your partner. You lowered your head and avoided his gaze, for you were a victim of your own expectations once again, of how much you wished you could have done something worth remembering with the man most precious to you. "Sorry if this isn't what you expected from me." you were tempted to bite your tongue, to hold back the tears that threatened to leave your eyes.
But his fingers were still next to yours, this time not letting you go. Your own touch felt like his, freezing like icicles hanging from the edge of a cliff, and oh, how he understood in that moment how frightened you were of your own thoughts. "You wanted to show me what I missed out on during childhood, didn't you?" one of his hands left yours for seconds, taking your chin to look up at him. "There are some swings in this park, you could show me how to get high on them, if you like."
"Don't listen to what your mind tells you" he kissed the back of your hands, your knuckles, then kissed the tip of your nose. "You are with me and I have been with you since eons before this life" his eyes reflected a deep adoration, sincere and warm, a gentleness you wanted to run from, for you thought you were not good enough to receive.
"You're doing great, Sunshine."
And for a second you looked immensely grateful, to be alive, to feel loved.