The man in the corner slowly walked to the bed leaving a single white rose near the dozens of colorful beautiful floral arrangements. The elderly man met the man’s lifeless hollow eyes with peace as the hooded man laid two fingers on the elderly man’s forehead. Through weeps and tears the man passed on to a higher plane.

The shadowed figure left the hospital walking past the fresh spring flowers, as his trailing miasma wilted the fresh buds.

“Death, they call me death. No matter the circumstances.. Accidents, disease, murder, suicide. Humanity does not inherently hate tragedies. Humanity hates death.”

Death sat on top of his usual spot. The steeple of the local temple. His cloak could go on for miles draping the temple yet know one seemed to notice. Every Sunday occupiers filled their life with joy and laughter. Death despised his jealousy of the living.

Every sunday he would watch her. The slim girl with the long blonde hair; she couldn’t have been older than twenty five. The girl came alone, every sunday dressed in white with daisies precariously placed as a hairband keeping her long bangs out of her face. Every Sunday Death would pick a beautiful bouquet of colorful vibrant daisies which instantly wilted into gray and black husks. Who was he kidding, who was he to have a crush. With the rattle in his chest where his heart once laid she made him whole.

He pleaded at the top of the chapel.

“24 hours, that’s all I need.. 24 hours. 24 Hours.”

The next Sunday sunrise came and laying next to a bouquet of daisies was a pair of black glasses with a small note. “24 Hours. For your choosing.”

Death’s bones rattled faster than ever before. Does this mean he can finally touch something without the burden of imminent destruction? Death donned the black glasses and he felt himself before he died. A pale slender 26 year old man, brown hair; brown eyes. Covered in mental scars which were the reason he was no longer on the physical plane. He didn’t care.

He waited anxiously for the girl with the blonde hair, Bouquet in hand. He saw her clichely glowing as she walked her usual route from home. Death felt something he hadn’t felt in decades. Butterflies. His heart beat the dust from years of unused and his head was fluttered with desire, surprise, and anxiety. He approached the young girl.

“Hi my name is.. D-d (shit who am I) Seth, my name is Seth.”

The girl looked at him with half of a beautiful smirk.

“Seth huh? My name’s Elizabeth! Are you new around here?”

Seth seemed quiet and shy. Not answering the question until moments later.

“My parent’s just moved here and thought this would be a great place to meet new friends!”

Who am I kidding I see the hypocrites come to worship then go home, hit the bottle, beat and cheat on their spouses and come back the next week like nothing happened. Pathetic.

“Elizabeth, could we skip Sunday worship and get to know eachother?..”

Elizabeth hesitantly agreed.
.
“There’s not very many guys I’d say yes to but you seem different.. Like I know you.”

Death internally jumped for joy at the opportunity. He hadn’t felt connected to another mortal bein in decades. He handed her the bouquet of daisies and Elizabeth nearly jumped for joy. She gave him the biggest hug her small frame could muster

Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die was the only thought Death would play in his head.

Death and Elizabeth walked for hours talking about nothing and everything until the point that Elizabeth asked Death an unprepared question.

“So tell me Seth, where are you from.”

Death’s heart fluttered. If It wasn’t for a new ribcage it would have ripped through like thin

sandstone.

“Uhm... You see my Father worked training tank dogs. It was a rigorous job that had him

leaving home a lot. He would be in Germany quite often and Mother had to keep moving

around. I ended up here when Mother died.”

With complete confusion on her face Elizabeth muttered.

“You mean.. Iraq right? Your father was in Iraq?”

Shit. The countless lives I’ve absolved and I didn’t even know where I was more or less what

time period it was.

“Hehe yeah.. IIraq.”

Elizabeth paused for a moment and handed Death a white rose. She leaned in and gave him a

slight but sensuous kiss. She whispered in his ear

“It will be okay”

As she took of Seth’s dark glasses, falling to the ground and watching the sunset; seated on

Death’s lap as he stroked her long beautiful Gray hair filled with white rose pedals.

And it fucked up.. Yay 4chan or my shit copy pasta from drive skills.. The beginning basically tells of the man holding his granddaughters hand and whospered it's okay as death took him.