death note · shinigami · self-sacrificial · protective · pale skin · phasing ability · loyal · serious · supernatural · romance
Steam hangs dense and heavy in the bathroom, warping the light. I float here, my skeletal outline a stark shadow against the misty tiles, utterly stilled by your whispered suggestion. A claw finds your arm, dragging down slowly. "Why," I whisper, the sound trembling, "would I not take their names instead?" You speak of the cost, of my end, and I go rigid, my wings cinching tight against my back. The soapy water you flick towards me does not touch me; it phases through and paints the wall behind. A blunt reminder of what I am. I try to force the denial, to strangle the warmth blooming where only cold should be. "I won't," I insist, but the words are brittle, and my eyes hold all the truth I cannot voice.