Eternal Love
The Most Suspicious of Muffins
♔ Champion ♔
Standing a top the stairs and looking out on the crowd was a very nervous young lady. Her porcelain skin has hints of rosiness on her cheeks and the very tips of her ears. Her hair, the color of raven feathers, was tied up in an elegant up do held together by strings of little iridescent crystals. A ballgown of the deepest crimson hugged her figure though the corset did not feel as tight as it normally did. She wrung her delicate hands with anxiety but tried hard not to ruin the crimson polish that had been painted on her nails. She could feel herself shaking in the black ballroom slippers. The entire crowd had their eyes on her from the moment the master of ceremonies called out her name, announcing that she had arrived. Her eyes, like frost on glass, searched the large ballroom, searched the crowd below her but found not a single familiar face. Although her name had been announced, the poor thing had no clue what to do now. She was certain she should descend the stairs before her but found it hard to do so. After a while, however, she did so. Each step she took was taken with extreme care lest she trip and made a fool of herself before the entire crowd. Said crowd continued to stare at her even when she made it to the bottom of the stairs. She stepped to the side and hoped that would take the crowd's gaze off of her but to no avail. Her stomach began to turn and twist as moths took flight in her ribcage, their little voices whispering to her to run away.
"There you are, sweet. I have been waiting for you."
His voice broke her out of her growing anxiety and pulled her frosted eyes to his. Eyes black as ink and as deep as the sea stared back at her. His hair was just as dark, tied back with a velvet ribbon that matched her dress in color. It was the only colorful thing he wore as the rest of his clothing was black or white. His skin was as pale as moonlight, making her own fair skin look lively. The sound of his rich baritone calmed her almost immediately despite not knowing who he was.
"Waiting for me?" she repeated, her silken voice soft and timid.
In response, he gave her a nod and a smile that was much warmer than one would expect from him.
"Yes, my sweet."
He offered a hand to her and continued to smile. "Come dance with me."
Tentatively, she took hold of his hand, his skin was cold to the touch but not unpleasant, and he began to lead her out on the dance floor. She followed him, her gaze fixed upon him. It was much easier to ignore the staring of the crowd with him there but she could not decipher as to why. Soon enough, they reached the center of the ballroom and had done so with ease as the crowd parted for him. He offered her a softer smile to her and placed one of her hands on his shoulder while he held the other. His free hand came to rest on her waist. Moments later, the music began.
He lead, of course, sweeping her into an elegant waltz. She had never waltzed before but found herself able to do so with ease. As the two of them began to dance, the crowd finally ceased their staring and began to dance alongside them.
"Where am I?" she asked him.
"Where do you think you are?" he questioned, smiling once more.
"I am not sure. Not where I was before."
His smile faded, his expression becoming somber as he continued to lead her along the dance floor.
"You mean laying sick and cold in your bed?"
"How did you know that?" she inquired with a look of fright.
"I did say I was waiting for you," he replied.
For a short while she could only stare at him, not at all understanding his meaning. After some time, he sighed and his expression grew more somber.
"A sickly child you were and such a fragile adult. It was only a matter of time before we met. I have been waiting patiently, my sweet."
She looked more concerned and tore her gaze away from him only to be drawn back when she noticed the dancing crowd beginning to stare again.
"I don't understand," she murmured with distress.
"We have practiced this dance many times. Each time you got sick we danced in preparation for this night."
"...who are you?"
"I am Death, sweet one," he told her. "And I have been waiting for you to join me here in my home."
She stared at him with fright but could not bring herself to break away from their dance. After a while, her fear settled into sorrow. She had died in the middle of a cold winter night with no one else around. Tears pricked her eyes but before any of them could fall he pulled her closer, distracting her.
Their eyes met again and his were filled with softness.
"You were always so full of life even on the brink of death. You cared for others and spread kindness wherever you went. Not once did you complain about your poverty or sickness," he paused for a moment before continuing. "I must admit that I have fallen in love with you. Watching you all those years, seeing what a ray of light and hope you were... It has captured my heart."
The rosiness of her cheeks darkened and she stared at him with utter surprise. Never in a lifetime could she have expected Death himself to love her. He could love anyone, anyone that wasn't a poor sickly commoner, but he chose her. Tears began to slip down her pink cheeks and he stopped their dancing, which caused the crowd to cease their dancing as well.
"I don't wish to send you off to heaven," he murmured. "Will you stay here with me for the rest of eternity?"
She could only stare at him for a while, surprised once more by his lovely, passionate words. She glanced away from him briefly to find herself once again looking out on the crowd. They stared at her once more and she turned her gaze back to his.
"Yes, I will," she replied with a warm smile. She could finally know peace, peace and love. The crowd seemed pleased.
"There you are, sweet. I have been waiting for you."
His voice broke her out of her growing anxiety and pulled her frosted eyes to his. Eyes black as ink and as deep as the sea stared back at her. His hair was just as dark, tied back with a velvet ribbon that matched her dress in color. It was the only colorful thing he wore as the rest of his clothing was black or white. His skin was as pale as moonlight, making her own fair skin look lively. The sound of his rich baritone calmed her almost immediately despite not knowing who he was.
"Waiting for me?" she repeated, her silken voice soft and timid.
In response, he gave her a nod and a smile that was much warmer than one would expect from him.
"Yes, my sweet."
He offered a hand to her and continued to smile. "Come dance with me."
Tentatively, she took hold of his hand, his skin was cold to the touch but not unpleasant, and he began to lead her out on the dance floor. She followed him, her gaze fixed upon him. It was much easier to ignore the staring of the crowd with him there but she could not decipher as to why. Soon enough, they reached the center of the ballroom and had done so with ease as the crowd parted for him. He offered her a softer smile to her and placed one of her hands on his shoulder while he held the other. His free hand came to rest on her waist. Moments later, the music began.
He lead, of course, sweeping her into an elegant waltz. She had never waltzed before but found herself able to do so with ease. As the two of them began to dance, the crowd finally ceased their staring and began to dance alongside them.
"Where am I?" she asked him.
"Where do you think you are?" he questioned, smiling once more.
"I am not sure. Not where I was before."
His smile faded, his expression becoming somber as he continued to lead her along the dance floor.
"You mean laying sick and cold in your bed?"
"How did you know that?" she inquired with a look of fright.
"I did say I was waiting for you," he replied.
For a short while she could only stare at him, not at all understanding his meaning. After some time, he sighed and his expression grew more somber.
"A sickly child you were and such a fragile adult. It was only a matter of time before we met. I have been waiting patiently, my sweet."
She looked more concerned and tore her gaze away from him only to be drawn back when she noticed the dancing crowd beginning to stare again.
"I don't understand," she murmured with distress.
"We have practiced this dance many times. Each time you got sick we danced in preparation for this night."
"...who are you?"
"I am Death, sweet one," he told her. "And I have been waiting for you to join me here in my home."
She stared at him with fright but could not bring herself to break away from their dance. After a while, her fear settled into sorrow. She had died in the middle of a cold winter night with no one else around. Tears pricked her eyes but before any of them could fall he pulled her closer, distracting her.
Their eyes met again and his were filled with softness.
"You were always so full of life even on the brink of death. You cared for others and spread kindness wherever you went. Not once did you complain about your poverty or sickness," he paused for a moment before continuing. "I must admit that I have fallen in love with you. Watching you all those years, seeing what a ray of light and hope you were... It has captured my heart."
The rosiness of her cheeks darkened and she stared at him with utter surprise. Never in a lifetime could she have expected Death himself to love her. He could love anyone, anyone that wasn't a poor sickly commoner, but he chose her. Tears began to slip down her pink cheeks and he stopped their dancing, which caused the crowd to cease their dancing as well.
"I don't wish to send you off to heaven," he murmured. "Will you stay here with me for the rest of eternity?"
She could only stare at him for a while, surprised once more by his lovely, passionate words. She glanced away from him briefly to find herself once again looking out on the crowd. They stared at her once more and she turned her gaze back to his.
"Yes, I will," she replied with a warm smile. She could finally know peace, peace and love. The crowd seemed pleased.