Once is a Mistake, Twice is a Pattern
1367 Words
The cake my father crafted was nothing short of a masterpiece. Adorned with delicate frosting flowers and made of rich chocolate—the very essence of indulgence—it was a dream come true for me. I embraced him tightly, my gratitude spilling over. The warmth of family gathered around me, the celebratory meal was a balm for the day’s stresses. But as the night deepened, I excused myself, cloaking my true intention in the guise of needing rest for an early collection. The reality was far graver: a life was on the line.
Sinking into my bed, I set the alarm on my phone, determined to snatch a brief nap before my task. Sleep came in restless waves until I jolted awake, heart hammering as I checked the time. 2:15 AM. Panic surged through me; my alarm had failed. Ignoring the sinking dread, I teleported straight into Seth’s room.
The darkness was suffocating, mingled with the unmistakable, iron-rich scent of blood. I conjured a small orb of light, gasping at the sight before me—Seth slumped against the wall, a pool of crimson spreading around him. My hands were shaking as I ripped the sheet off his bed and hurried to his side, slipping in the blood but pushing through the discomfort. I wrapped his bleeding wrists, channeling healing magic to staunch the flow and mend the severed flesh.
When I finally met his gaze, confusion and curiosity warred in his eyes. "Who are you? Why did you save me? Living sucks."
Rolling my eyes, I quipped, "Life is a beautiful lie, and death is a painful truth."
Seth managed a faint smile. "I get it."
"I don’t think you do," I shot back. "And you're a bloody mess."
When he cupped my face, I was taken aback, my emotions swirling in confusion. "You should be dead," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
"I know," he replied quietly, his voice tinged with resignation.
"No, I mean touching me should have killed you outright. Everything about you is confusing," I muttered, shaking my head.
Seth asked my name, and I told him. "Leia."
"You need to stop trying to end your life and taking drugs. Eventually, another reaper will come, and it will be the end," I warned, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
Seth’s response was nonchalant. "Whoa there, pretty lady. I didn’t ask for an intervention. I’m just tired of my father's expectations and figured ending it all was the easiest way out."
I glared at him, struggling to reconcile this weak-minded individual with the possibility of him being my mate. Despite my resolve, his presence unraveled me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
"How did you appear when I needed you? And what exactly is a reaper?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
I growled softly, the tension in my chest growing. "My dad’s a big-shot billionaire. He forced me to attend this university to keep me away from him and his trophy wife and kids. We don’t get along. He even put me in a coma once by running me over with his Tahoe," I admitted, my voice tinged with a mix of anger and sorrow.
"That’s awful," Seth murmured, a genuine tone of sympathy in his voice.
"My parents and siblings adore me," I said, leaving out the fact that they would likely disapprove of him for being human.
Seth’s eyes softened. "I can’t promise I won’t do something stupid again. But talking to you is...different. I don't usually open up like this."
"Get cleaned up," I suggested. "I have a shower and some clothes you can borrow."
Seth’s voice was groggy as he offered, "Thank you."
I smirked, snapping my fingers to clean myself and change into a simple black t-shirt and skinny jeans. A wave of my hand erased the bloodstains from the floor. Seth watched, his eyes wide with astonishment.
"Get some sleep and try to enjoy your second chance," I instructed, rising to leave.
"Can I get your number, Leia? Maybe we can hang out sometime," he asked, hope glimmering in his eyes.
I maintained a composed demeanor as I handed him my phone. He entered his digits and called himself, returning the phone with a grateful smile. I nodded, waved goodbye, and vanished, still clutching the blood-soaked reaper card. Normally, these cards would vanish after a reaping, but mine remained—a stark reminder of my choices.
Back in my room, I slipped the card between my mattress, feeling the weight of my decisions settle over me. I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My black hair was a mess, but I was otherwise intact. My phone buzzed—a text from Seth, who had saved his number under "King Dysmorphia." I chuckled at the attached image of a bloody heart with black crow wings. His message read, "I’m an artist and really like mandalas. I did the one on my wall."
I replied, "It’s beautiful. You’re a man of many talents," and hit send. Exhaustion tugged at me—it was already 4:59 AM. Another ding—"Good night/morning lol." I sent back a simple "zzz" emoji before collapsing into bed, sleep claiming me almost instantly.
The next morning, I didn’t stir until eleven. Aerin, our housekeeper, stood over me, her hands on her hips.
"Rough night, miss? You were talking in your sleep about someone named Seth," she teased, her tone light as she sang, "Leia and Seth sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
I threw my pillow at her. "Hush!"
"That serious, huh? Your parents are going to want to meet him," she continued, her teasing tone unwavering.
I felt the tug of the reaper box, its call insistent. I hadn’t yet completed a job successfully. Sliding out of bed, I hurried to the black box. Lifting the lid, I cringed at the new card: Seth Lockwood, 22 years old, 304 Avenue Street, 1:13:20 PM, struck by a vehicle in a crosswalk. I swore under my breath, rubbing my eyes. Aerin peered at the card, unable to discern the name. I had an hour to reach Avenue Street in the human realm. My mother would undoubtedly question my daily cards and might call on Damon. With a snap of my fingers, I cleaned up and dressed quickly, grabbing my cell phone.
I texted Seth: "Good almost afternoon, King Dysmorphia. Please avoid Avenue Street around noon. You’re going to be hit by a car. Meet me at Takas Bar, and I’ll buy us lunch." Tucking the phone into my back pocket, I followed Aerin into the kitchen.
"Leia is going on a lunch date with a boy named Seth," Aerin announced with gusto.
My parents perked up, their curiosity piqued. "Tell us about him," they demanded.
I smiled at my parents, hiding my apprehension. "I met him during my first collection, and we hit it off."
My dad suggested inviting Seth over for dinner, but I protested it was too short notice. My mother dismissed my concern, insisting I ask him. Reluctantly, I agreed. They nodded, and I vanished before they could ask more questions, reappearing in a downtown alley. Composing myself, I walked to Takas Bar. Inside, I spotted Seth’s blonde head and slid into the booth across from him.
"Hey, Leia. Nice to meet you outside of my room," he grinned, pushing the menu towards me. To my surprise, he’d ordered the same burger I had.
"You want to tell me about yourself?" he asked, his curiosity genuine. Before I could respond, I spotted Callon outside—an apparition unseen by Seth.
"Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to use the ladies' room," I mumbled. He nodded, and I slipped away, cursing under my breath.
Callon, my mentor and grandfather, followed me. "Your parents are excited, but they won’t be thrilled to learn he’s human," he growled.
"Then I’ll just have to turn him into a reaper," I snapped, my frustration evident.
"That could turn you human—a witchy human," he warned.
I sighed, admitting that my heart wouldn’t let me reap Seth. "That makes this a thousand times worse," Callon growled, his eyes wide with worry.
- Writer
