The Grim Lover

The hospital at night is a familiar battlefield to me. In fact, I like it more than during the day. I can't quite pinpoint why. If I had to guess, maybe it's simply because fewer people are walking around, which makes me feel more comfortable and at ease, as is typical for a solitary person with limited options. But tonight might be different because I'm not here as the night shift doctor.

 

"Does the patient have any underlying medical conditions?"

 

“No, he’s fine,” I stammered, my voice filled with panic as I ran alongside the patient’s bed like someone terrified. I was about to burst into tears, but that wasn’t necessary at this moment, as long as I was wearing my mask and cap to cover my face. “He was perfectly fine during the day, but then he suddenly collapsed.”

 

The young nurse nodded in acknowledgement before three or four other staff members rushed in to help push the patient's bed at a speed that would shock most people, but this was a normal sight in the emergency room. Every second was a matter of life and death; one second could change a great deal, especially for a patient experiencing sudden cardiac arrest like this.

 

I was asked to wait outside while the doctors and nurses were busy performing CPR on Fourteen.

 

The person lying on the hospital bed was fourteen, a Grim Reaper who had been brought to the emergency room in the middle of the night with cardiac arrest, without any pre-existing conditions and with an unknown cause.

 

Thirty hours earlier.

 

"What are you going to do at the hospital?" Fourteen asked. He looked surprised but not shocked. I don't know if he already knew what I was thinking, but if so, he shouldn't have wasted his time asking.

 

"I need to find the evidence," I replied. "I need something to prove I didn't kill the patient. At least I need the anaesthesia slip for that case, or the medication reimbursement history in the system. If I can get that out, even if I'm not immediately acquitted, I'll still have some chance to fight the case."

 

Fourteen didn't reply immediately. He paused as if deep in thought before speaking.

 

"Hmm, that makes sense," he nodded slightly. "But how are you going to get in? You can't just swoop in, can you?"

"Probably not. Even if the police don't swarm in and drag me to jail immediately, it'll probably be quite chaotic. Reporters will flock to cover the story. I'll likely be mobbed and attacked, which I don't want to happen right now, while I'm unarmed. If I have nothing to fight with, it's like going out as a sitting target for people to curse at."

 

"That means you have to sneak in."

 

“Yes,” I nodded in reply. “I thought I’d go in at night because there aren’t as many people as during the day. But I’m afraid to walk in without warning; it would be too conspicuous.”

 

"What do you want me to do?" Fourteen asked directly, seemingly annoyed that I was rambling on and on without getting to the point.

 

"What can you do?"

 

"Means what?"

 

"Is there any way you can help me get in without getting caught? Like... like you're doing now, by creating a blindfold?"

 

"Does that mean you can walk right in to find the evidence without anyone seeing you?"

 

"Can you do it?"

 

“No,” the Grim Reaper said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He refused almost without hesitation. “My illusion only works if you are stationary, in a closed space like here. It’s like I’m removing you from Google Maps. Even if they know your location, they’ll never be able to reach here. But the moment you move, you return to the map.”

 

"Oh... I thought you were making yourself invisible to others."

 

"I'm a Reaper, not a wizard," Fourteen frowned slightly, as if troubled by my fanciful idea. "Do you think I'd give you an invisibility cloak like Harry Potter?"

 

"I expected that."

 

"Too many"

 

"Oh... so what are we going to do now?" I slumped my shoulders in despair. Just when I'd started to have hope, Fourteen had thrown me back to square one. "Can you teleport me, like you like to do, just topsy-turvy me here and there?"

 

"I can only take myself with me."

 

"So what if we make all the officers fall asleep?"

 

"Don't you care about the patient at all?"

 

It was as if I momentarily forgot that I was a doctor. I completely forgot that there were patients all over the hospital. If all the doctors, nurses, and staff were asleep, who would take care of them? Even just a few minutes of sleep is very risky, especially for patients in the ICU, whose condition can worsen at any moment. Doing that would be no different from killing them.

 

"That's right, I forgot," I said apologetically, shamelessly admitting my disappointment that another option had been ruled out. "How can we sneak in? Even just fifteen or ten minutes would be good. I know where those things are."

 

"Is there nothing we can use to lure the doctors?"

 

"No," I replied helplessly. "Nothing is more important than the patient's life."

 

Then silence fell over the dinner table. Fourteen didn't say anything more. I wasn't sure if he was trying to help me think or just sitting there quietly.

 

I need time to think, but whichever it is, what he just said sparked an idea in me.

 

“That’s right!” I exclaimed excitedly, my hope quickly rekindling. I felt like I was changing my mood too quickly. “The patient…”

 

"Means what?"

 

"Just one," I replied enthusiastically, "the patient's heart has stopped, and we need CPR. Everyone will rush to that spot anyway."

 

The young Grim Reaper blinked, seemingly understanding what I said, but at the same time, he was confused because I suddenly acted like someone who had risen from the dead and was so excited that I was losing my composure.

 

"CPR is very exhausting. One person can only do one cycle, which is two minutes. Any longer, and they'll run out of energy, leading to uneven chest compressions. During CPR, there needs to be nurses and nursing assistants to break ampoules, administer medication, and squeeze the bag, while someone keeps records of when and what medications were given. Some patients even need electrical shocks."

 

"Shock electricity?"

 

"It's to reset the heart rhythm, but if your heart isn't beating irregularly or too fast, you don't need to give it an electric shock."

 

"That means it takes a lot of people to perform CPR at once," Fourteen nodded in understanding before summarising my explanation. He was quite an impressive student at the front of the class.

 

"Yes," I replied, before explaining further, "These are just the people performing various duties during CPR. Especially if the patient has many complications, we have to call staff from other wards for help, assist with moving the patient, and perform CPR. Sometimes, even the cleaning staff, stretcher bearers, or security guards have to line up and stand by. Dealing with one patient in distress is a bigger issue than you might think."

 

"Hmm... I understand now," the student at the front of the class quickly grasped the main point. Even though I accidentally used some technical terms, Fourteen seemed to understand it easily. Or maybe the Grim Reapers actually already have training on these things? "So, what are we going to do? Which patient's heart are we going to make stop beating?"

 

"Are you crazy? How could I do that?" I blurted out. Just a moment ago, he was the one warning me about patient safety, and now he's acting like he wants me to stop someone's heart from beating.

 

"I don't know."

 

"We don't need to make anyone's heart stop," I said slowly, my gaze conveying a certain meaning, "because we already have it."

 

Fourteen stared at me silently. He was probably processing what I had just said. A few seconds later, his usually expressionless face slowly transformed into one that I couldn't discern whether he agreed or disagreed. His eyebrows, marked with a scar, furrowed together, the corners of his mouth turned slightly downward, and he looked at me as if I were a talking centipede.

 

"You want your gang to help you perform CPR on a dead person like me?"

 

The Fourteen called himself "dead," and yes, medically speaking, that's how it is. A stopped heart means death. In his case, it's just that his heart had never beaten before. Therefore, the doctors, nurses, and others had to keep pumping for at least half an hour, unless it was a serious emergency.

 

Part of it is helping the patient, and another part is showing empathy to the patient's relatives, letting them know that we, the staff, have done our best. So, we usually keep performing CPR until the relatives say "enough."

 

"I hope you can do it," I stammered, suddenly realising I'd just asked him to risk himself to save me. I'd found myself thinking we were a team without even realising it. "It takes patience. Honestly, CPR hurts a lot. You have to press down two inches on the chest. It's just that people whose hearts have truly stopped don't feel it."

 

"I don't feel pain anyway," Fourteen replied expressionlessly. "Actually, I could feel pain in this body, but it's much less than yours. Probably about ten per cent of the normal pain."

 

“Oh, that’s good,” I inadvertently smiled, seeing a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel, but quickly suppressed my smile, realising I shouldn’t get too excited about Fourteen’s sacrifice. “But the problem is, the doctor still needs to check your vital signs. If they’re completely still from the start, the parametric system will have to start CPR here. He definitely won’t take you to the hospital while you’re still in pain.”

 

"Then you don't need to call an ambulance. Just take me there yourself."

 

"But if your heart stopped beating from the start and there seemed to be no response, they might not perform CPR for that long, because just four minutes is a risk of brain death. Then they'll ask relatives like me what we want to do."

 

"Okay," Fourteen interrupted, as if knowing I was embarrassed to say, "Could you please stall for a little longer?" "I might not be able to command my heart to beat, but if I can make the monitor twitch a little, that might be possible."

 

"Really?" I don't even need a mirror to know; my eyes must be sparkling so brightly right now, it's annoying.

"But I probably can't keep it up there for long. As I said, I'm not a wizard."

 

"Just a little bit is enough. Once he sees you're responding, he'll be pumping like crazy."

 

"Okay, then whatever."

 

"Yes!" I secretly clenched my fist, overjoyed that I could finally do something. Even though I didn't know if it would work, this was the most alive I'd felt during that hellish week. "Thank you so much, Fourteen. I promise I won't be disobedient for three days."

 

"Just three days?"

 

"I'm just saying this as a precaution. Would saying 'forever' be too much to ask?"

 

Fourteen sighed, shaking his head slowly, as if he had run out of things to say to someone like me.

 

"Eat too."

 

"?"

 

"Eat more rice, in exchange for me acting as bait."

 

I still don't quite understand why Fourteen is so concerned about my eating habits, but since it's not a big deal (for now), I think it's a pretty good situation.

 

"Okay," I agreed firmly. "But could you make P'Fah's dish for me again? It doesn't have to be every meal, just occasionally. I'll help next time."

 

"No need for help," the young Grim Reaper replied slowly. "Anyway, I'm basically unemployed right now. It's good to have something to do."

 

"Thanks for making it for me, but are you implying that I'm preventing you from working?"

 

"That's right."

 

"Hey! How can you say that?" I felt a little annoyed at being unfairly accused. "I didn't ask you to keep an eye on me in the first place."

"You didn't ask for it, but you just kept threatening to die."

 

“That is my business.”

 

"When will you finally understand that this concerns me, too?"

 

Fourteen's cold voice made me stop short. My mouth, which had been poised to argue, hung open before slowly closing in guilt. I know this is my life, and I can do what I want with it. But on the other hand, it's unfair to Fourteen, too. He didn't choose for our lives to be intertwined like this. Fourteen probably wants to live his own life and achieve certain goals (he likes to say he has no goals, but I'm sure he does). So it wouldn't be fair if I took everything away from him simply because I no longer had the will to live.

 

"I hope you can keep thinking like that for a long time," Fourteen said, this time responding to the thoughts in my mind. "Whether you live or die is no longer just your business. From now on, whatever you do, please think about me."

 

I know what he means, but that last sentence, when you hear it again, sounds pretty much like a love confession.

 

"No."

 

He didn't let me daydream for even a single second.

 

"Oh!" I just remembered something. I should tell him anyway. "You should probably get intubated too."

 

Fourteen rolled his eyes, looking unhappy but helpless. I swear, I felt sorry for him. Being intubated while conscious is agonising, but if Fourteen could feel even ten per cent of human pain, I think he would get through it without much difficulty.

 

"But luckily, you have no pulse. I don't know if there's an electrocardiogram (ECG), but it doesn't look like you'll need a shock. You can rest assured."

 

Fourteen made a face that seemed to ask, "Are you feeling relieved?" I could only manage a weak smile.

 

"I'll do it as quickly as possible."

 

That's what I meant, to minimise the chances of him being mobbed and abandoned in the emergency room.

 

Thirty hours later.

 

Right now, doctors and nurses are crowded around the bed of Fourteen, the critically ill patient. Fortunately, the emergency room is relatively empty today, so all the chaos is focused on resuscitation efforts, with the patient, a "death angel," playing the role of a cardiac arrest with perfect acting.

 

I stood watching him from a distance for a moment, raising my hand to my chest and covering my mouth like a friend in shock, unable to react. I waited for everyone's attention to focus entirely on the critically ill patient before subtly slipping out of the emergency room like a ninja.

 

I sneaked into the restroom, glancing left and right to make sure no one was around, then headed to the innermost stall and changed from my patient's family uniform into my shift scrubs. I figured this would allow me to move around more easily during this time, and at least it wouldn't be so conspicuous. However, I still had to wear a mask and added my glasses (I never usually wear glasses while working) to make identification even harder.

 

As expected, the doctors and nurses were called away to help the patient who had arrested, leaving the hallway to the anaesthesia ward clear. This greatly encouraged me. I half-ran, half-walked along the familiar corridor, peering inside the room through the window, but seeing no one, I quickly opened the door and rushed to the drawer containing the anaesthesia records (or what we like to call anaesthesia slips). I searched through the records, recalling the incident date. I remembered the date and the patient's name vividly. My heart pounded; even though I knew they must be there, I couldn't help but fear that fate would play a cruel trick on me again.

 

Found it. I picked up the target document and glanced through it. A quick scan was enough to tell what was what. But what I saw before my eyes was even worse than a cruel twist of fate. This isn't the one I wrote. All medication information has been changed.

 

Although I had suspected it beforehand, encountering it firsthand was unbelievable. In a medical facility where everything should be correct and trustworthy, could forging medical documents be so easy? The events of that day were uncovered, twisting and turning as if in a parallel world, and I was the one confused, unable to make sense of it, creating my own story in my head without knowing which direction this world was heading.

 

I hastily grabbed my phone and snapped a picture of the inhalant slip, not knowing what use it would be, but just in case. Then I rushed to the computer in my room, the one I usually use for documents, entered my login credentials, and searched through the medication request history for that day. I scrolled through the target case and soon found it. But, unfortunately, I was disappointed once again.

 

The list of medications dispensed for that case has been changed. It hasn't changed entirely, but some medications have been added. And yes, as expected, the added medications are allergy triggers.

 

I'm not joking at all. This isn't just a case of defamation to escape punishment; it's a clear act of sabotage. At this point, claiming a misunderstanding is no longer accurate, because if there were one, these documents wouldn't have been altered so brazenly.

 

I took another screenshot of the screen, even though I thought it was pointless. I quickly shut everything down and walked out of the anaesthesia room before the people on the night shift returned. Judging by the time, they'll probably be back soon. I'd better get out of here before that happens.

 

I walked around to an area where I was sure few people passed by at this time. A little further on was the fire escape. Going out that way should be safer.

 

"Won..."

 

I froze. A voice came from behind me. Without turning around, I knew whose voice it was. And the fact that the person dared to call my name like that meant they hadn't just passed by, but had been following me from the start.

 

"What are you doing here?" Gloy asked, as if she truly knew nothing. She was an innocent person confused by the events that had unfolded, and I was the culprit trying to clear my name. "Are you crazy? Do you know what you're doing?"

 

"I know," I replied calmly before turning to face her. I had guessed that Gloy might be on night shift, but I didn't think it would be this coincidental. "And do you know what you're doing?"

 

"I'm doing my duty as a doctor," Gloy replied confidently. "I did what I had to do. I'm not someone who just disappears and leaves the burden for others."

 

Oh...that's the story.

 

As a doctor, I've completely failed at leaving my workload to others like this. Normally, unless you're near death, doctors would drag themselves to work. I know that, but I've categorised myself as near death since that day. I want to die with every breath. If a doctor with this kind of mental state were to return to work, the hospital would be incredibly brave. Besides, the news about me is everywhere now. Everyone's branding me as a murderer doctor who killed a patient in the operating room. Who would dare come for treatment if they knew I was still working? Patients and their families would be terrified and flee elsewhere.

 

So let them say whatever they want. It would be better if they fired me. It's better than having to work with people like this.

 

"Oh! So you want me back?" I chuckled, staring deep into her eyes, wishing I could sit inside her brain, to know what she was thinking, what had changed her so much. Or maybe she'd always been like this, and I was just too stupid to see it. "I can't believe you still want to work in the OR with me. Aren't you afraid I'll go in and kill the patients again?"

 

Gloy didn't answer, but her jaw moved slightly, as if she were clenching tightly. She'd been like this since the day before. I don't know what she was resenting when it all stemmed from her. Or did she really believe that I was the one who made things this way?

 

"Aren't you afraid to sneak a peek at this information?"

 

"Why are you afraid? That's my office. Why shouldn't I be able to look around?"

 

"If you thought it was okay to watch, why sneak out in the middle of the night like this?"

 

"You're asking such stupid questions," I swear this isn't trolling. Gloy's question is genuinely driving me crazy. What kind of play is she putting on? Why is she acting so ridiculously? "Don't you really know what my life is like right now?"

 

I felt like I heard Fourteen's voice faintly in my head, but I couldn't make out what it was saying. I don't know if it was because they had difficulty communicating on their end or because I wasn't concentrating enough to listen.

 

"After doing all this, don't you think you should follow up and see how much damage you've done to their lives?"

 

"Don't you dare slander me, Won."

 

"Even if I say it a thousand times, it will still be the same," I emphasised firmly, my hands trembling with anger, but I could do nothing but clench them tightly. "I didn't do anything wrong, and you're just a coward who's useless at lying."

 

"You idiot!" Gloy blurted out, raising her voice at me. But she was still conscious enough to realise that calling people to meet us here now wouldn't do anyone any good, neither her nor me. So she quickly covered her mouth and retorted in a chilling whisper, "Look at yourself before you speak."

 

"I know my own situation, Gloy. It's my business, good or bad, I've always known." I said, smugly, staring at her. "It's only you who never looks at yourself. Because all you care about is me, you're so jealous of me that you've gone crazy like this."

 

"You..." Gloy gritted her teeth, her face trembling. I thought she might kill me if she wanted to. I secretly thought it would be good if it actually happened, because not only would I be free, but Gloy, who remained, would be living in hell. Wouldn't that be killing two birds with one stone?

 

"Stop being ridiculous." That wasn't Gloy's voice, but someone else's, echoing in my head. This time it was so clear, as if he were speaking right in my ear. "Come on."

 

That's it.

 

I made an agreement with Fourteen not to disobey him for three days, so today I have to give up my own desires to keep my promise.

 

"I hope you get well soon from your jealousy."

 

I said that and then ran down the fire escape. I was a little worried that Gloy would yell in anger, or go and tell someone, and that this shareholder would get me in trouble. But judging from her final expression, I don't think she'll do anything like that, at least not now. I don't know if I'm imagining things, but I feel like Gloy intentionally let me escape.

 

I ran out of the hospital gate, walked along the dark side alley until I reached where I'd parked my car. I looked left and right, searching for my accomplice who should have arrived at the meeting point by now, but there was still no sign of him.

 

"Where is Fourteen?" I thought to myself, hoping he could hear my thoughts. Just a few minutes ago, he was complaining to me, wasn't he? "Fourteen, have you come out yet? I'm outside."

 

I started to feel uneasy. Fourteen should have escaped before me. Between someone who can move around freely and someone like me who has to run on two legs, how could he let me get there first? Or did something go wrong in the emergency room? No, he can't die. What else could go wrong? It doesn't seem like he got caught. What could he get caught for? Faking a cardiac arrest? That's crazy...

 

Perfect!

 

A soft snap of fingers near my ear snapped me back to reality. I turned towards the sound and found a young, dishevelled Grim Reaper standing beside me, his expression blank. His gaze seemed to say, "What nonsense are you spouting again?"

 

"Why did you take so long?" I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw he was out safely, but I couldn't help but grumble. He almost made me run back into the hospital just now! "I thought you'd been waiting for me."

 

"I thought about coming out, but I couldn't find the right moment," Fourteen replied in a perfectly normal tone. He seemed a little dazed, probably from being so frantically helped by the nurses. His short hair was sticking up in all directions, almost making me laugh. "Even after they announced the time of my death, they still wouldn't stop bothering me and running around looking for something."

 

"Oh! They must be looking for me." I just realised I'd left Fourteen to die in the emergency room without any relatives waiting to hear the treatment results. They must be looking for me. Oh... I'm so sorry, everyone.

 

"Oh... I see," Fourteen looked at me with a slightly stern gaze. I could only offer a weak smile in return. There was no excuse for this.

 

"I'm sorry," I said, reaching out to smooth down Fourteen's unruly hair. It was really bothering me. "And you, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

 

"Not really," Fourteen replied. He stood still, letting them fix his hair. Actually, he seemed more indifferent, as if to say, "Do whatever you want, I don't care." "It was just uncomfortable when they inserted the tube, and then there were so many people crowding around."

 

The young Grim Reaper looked at my face as I tried to avoid his gaze, his eyes fixed only on my soft hair, which was beginning to return to its normal style, a far cry from the unkempt appearance I had initially seen.

 

"How about you?" he asked in return.

 

"I got nothing," I said softly, feeling embarrassed and guilty for investing so much effort only to get nothing in return. "I'm sorry."

 

The silence that followed left me unable to guess what Fourteen was thinking. It was at times like this that I felt it was unfair, because Fourteen knew everything I thought, while I knew nothing about him, or what was in his head. I was the only one he had explored and known completely, while Fourteen was a book sealed shut, written entirely in invisible ink.

 

"Let's go back," Fourteen said after I finished fixing his hair. The Grim Reaper, with a poker face, opened the car door and got in without asking any further questions. I don't know if that's called anger or not; I really couldn't tell. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

 

The Grim Reaper opened the window and called out to me, still standing dazed on the sidewalk. His irritated expression strangely relieved me. I don't know if I'm misinterpreting things, but the way Fourteen acted so irritated me, it was as if he was pretending not to feel anything at all that this time the plan had failed. Conversely, if he had remained silent and shown no emotion as before, I might have interpreted it as genuine anger.

 

"Never mind, we'll figure something else out," Fourteen said calmly, seeing that I was still arguing with myself in the same spot. "We should get out of here quickly."

 

He said only that, then rolled up the window and left, leaving me, the driver, standing there sighing with mixed feelings. Part of me was relieved that Fourteen hadn't said anything, while another part couldn't help but feel disheartened. This failure meant we had to start from scratch again.

 

I looked down at my hands. The soft feeling still lingered on my palms and between my fingers, even though I wasn't touching anything. Suddenly, a warm sensation spread through my chest. I glanced at Fourteen sitting in the car, then back at my hands, while certain images slowly began to overlap in my mind.

 

I pictured P'Fah waiting for me to go home under that tree in the doctors' parking lot. He was sitting on the dirty sidewalk with Tong, his tea-coloured stray. His hair under his baseball cap was damp with sweat and messed up when I took it off. I thought it looked cute, but P'Fah frowned, thinking I thought his hairstyle was funny. At that moment... I fixed his hair for him, too. Just like what I did with Fourteen just now.

 

I'm sinking into the deepest depths of sleep. The cool temperature, the thick, soft blanket—this feeling is most special after the long, gruelling ordeal in the hospital. I feel like I'm being drawn into the bed, becoming one with it. This is the true love I've been searching for, and no one will separate me from it, at least not until tomorrow morning.

 

A sweet yet bitter scent intruded upon my sweet dreams, followed by a movement that made the mattress sag. It felt like a large monster was climbing into my body and taking it over. Then came an intrusive assault from my ear, neck, and collarbone, simultaneously attacking from the other side, my thighs and hips were equally battered. Even if I were sleepy, I had to wake up.

 

"Uh..."

 

I let out a soft warning sound to the intruder.

 

"Shhh...sleep," the nighttime intruder whispered softly, as if to lull me back to sleep. But I didn't believe his intentions were what he said; he wouldn't have pulled my pyjama pants down from my hips like that. "Sleep well, good boy."

 

"Are you drunk?" I rubbed my eyes gently while lying there, letting the drunkard mess with my body without resisting. The smell of wine was so strong that I didn't even need to open my eyes to know. Besides, he didn't often bother me while I was sleeping. Usually, it was when he was dragged to a party or a social event. He never came back completely drunk, but he did get into the mood for some mischief quite often. "Who brought you home?"

 

"Os called a car for me."

 

"Can you walk up there yourself?"

 

"I wasn't that drunk," he said, then burrowed his head into my baggy t-shirt. His lips, which had tasted expensive wine at celebrity parties, were now kissing the cold skin of the doctor who had just finished a twenty-four-hour shift. "I just bumped into a lot of important people."

 

"I thought P'Fah wouldn't have to drink to please the elders anymore."

 

"Oh...that would be nice," he said, slowly tracing his lips down to my lower abdomen. My bare lower body was exposed to the cool air from the air conditioner, sending shivers down my spine. But believe me, that wasn't the only reason. "I don't get to choose everything, P'Fah."

 

"Go ahead and be a little rebellious," I said, sliding my hand down to rest on his head. I wasn't forcing anything; I simply found a comfortable place to rest my hand and let my fiancé take control. Wherever his hot tongue traced, it sent shivers down my spine. Whether it was my slowly aroused genitals or the hidden passages at the back, he knew exactly how to handle them skillfully. I didn't need to guide him at all. 

 

"You're usually so stubborn, but now you're acting like a good boy."

 

P’Fah didn't reply. It seemed a little impolite for him to cut short my conversation and become engrossed with his tongue. His tongue continued to pleasure that part without stopping. It was as if P'Fah had gone deaf. He was always like this when alcohol flowed through his body. His temperature rose, his coolness melted away, lust erupted and wouldn't easily subside unless he got what he wanted.

I could only let out soft moans to express the intense pleasure he was giving me. I gently ran my fingers through his soft, silky hair, adding to the pleasure. My legs spread apart, my hips occasionally lifting to offer him more of an arousal. Even though we hardly ever lacked intimacy in bed, my boyfriend always managed to make it exciting. This was truly one of the blessings in our relationship.

 

"Hmm...that's enough," I gently pushed his head away. P'Fah looked up and met my eyes. His lips were glistening, smearing fluid all the way to his lower lip. A fire blazed in his eyes, and his trembling hands frantically trying to unbutton his pants were proof that only I could extinguish that flame. "Let Won go to the bathroom first."

 

"No need," P'Fah said, pulling down his underwear. His youthful vigour was revealed without fear, hard and erect, so much so that just looking at it made me feel tormented.

 

"No way! Won hasn't prepared yet. He can't wear this."

 

"You don't have to wear anything," the famous photographer said, pressing his thighs against my hips. He held my thighs close together before slowly inserting his manhood between the small gap. "I just finished my shift, I won't bother you for long, P'Fah."

 

"And will it be finished?"

 

"It's not difficult with me, P'Fah."

 

P'Fah is always so sweet-talking in situations like this. Even though he usually calls him "you" or "he" like a close friend, he knows when to be a close friend and when to be a lover. And surprisingly, he's good at both.

 

My body moved in response to his movements. The friction of his hardness against my thighs was just as exhilarating as penetration. Our youthful bodies moved in rhythm, stimulating each other and making us both feel good. I gazed at the older man, who was now softly sucking in his breath while moving his hips rhythmically. His expression was always perfect. I felt my body heat up twice as much every time I looked at his face during lovemaking, and this time was no different.

 

"Please..." P'Fah's face looked like he was about to cry when I put my index and middle fingers in my mouth. I sucked on them, moving my fingers in and out slowly while my eyes remained fixed on him. I knew he was suffering, but if I didn't give in now, I would be in the same situation. "If I do this, what will you do, P'Fah?"

 

"Go ahead," I pulled my finger from my mouth and replied dismissively. "You're going to do it this way?"

 

"So you want to do it?"

 

"Doing what"

 

"Like that," the handsome photographer gestured towards my saliva-soaked finger, "Why are you putting it in your mouth?"

 

"According to the mood"

 

"I'm doing it right here, and you still have the nerve to put something in your mouth?" P'Fah sounded like he was scolding me. Hmm... maybe he really wanted to scold me. Look at how I acted, like she wasn't enough, like I wanted someone else in this equation. "You only have one P'Fah, what am I supposed to do?"

 

A tingling sensation spread through my body. "Well... you don't have to do anything," he moved faster and harder, his sharp brows furrowed in frustration, and seeing that only intensified my desire.

 

"But I don't think that's enough."

 

"Enough...enough."

 

"How many more do you want, huh?"

 

I don't want anyone else. I only want him. I only want P'Fah. But I really like it when he says that, as if I'm never satisfied and always need more people to fill my greed.

 

"One P'Fah isn't enough, is it? You want more, don't you? How many? One, two, or three?"

 

He knows me so well, even the dark fantasies I try to hide, the disgusting secrets I don't want to admit. But P'Fah pulls them out and uses them as tools to please me. He's infiltrating my fantasies into reality to make our sex more thrilling and perfect.

"How many people will satisfy you? I'll go find them for you."

 

Every sense was heightened to the point I could barely breathe. He lifted my legs and held me tightly while thrusting into me, completely losing his youthful composure. The low moans in his throat sent shivers down my spine. Even though we didn't reach the climax, he still gave me just as much pleasure.

 

"P'Fah..."

 

It made sense, I groaned, my body felt like it was being shaken uncontrollably. But for a moment, I felt like the direction was off; something wasn't right.

 

"you..."

 

It's like I'm being pulled further and further away from my loved one, even before we've held hands and ascended to heaven together.

 

"you"

 

I jolted awake, my eyelids slowly opening in confusion. The first thing I saw was P'Fah crouching beside the bed, his face at the same level as mine. It was clear he was the one who had woken me from my passionate dream, which was quite cold-blooded, considering I was so close to reaching my climax just moments before.

 

But that's okay.

 

Let him compensate now.

 

Thinking that, I didn't hesitate. I reached out, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him closer, simultaneously moving my face closer, hoping to finish what I was dreaming of. I don't like things left unfinished, and I think P'Fah knows that well.

 

Phew!

 

But instead of willingly reciprocating my kiss as he usually did, this time P'Fah raised his hand to cover my face. His large hand completely covered my face, followed by a long sigh and his slow, bored tone of voice.

 

"What are you doing?" he said. "Calm down."

The words, delivered in a cold tone, jolted me awake in an instant. My eyelids, which had been half-open, snapped open, and I sprang up into a sitting position, recoiling almost off the other side of the bed. The person I had just attacked simply stared at me, showing no surprise, as if he already anticipated my reaction.

 

"I'm sorry," I said, but I couldn't say anything more. Right now, I don't even dare to make eye contact with him. If he hadn't been so quick, we would have kissed. "I'm a little confused."

 

I almost kissed the Grim Reaper.

 

"I understand," Fourteen sighed softly, reaching to switch on the bedside lamp before slowly standing up. As the light filled the room, I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt, only pyjama pants, and that there was a large bruise on his chest, so obvious at a glance.

 

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

 

"What?" Fourteen raised an eyebrow. He followed my gaze, which stopped on his chest, before saying, "Oh, it doesn't hurt."

 

The fact that Fourteen responded so casually might mean that he didn't actually feel any pain. This is probably fortunate for the Grim Reapers, who don't have to endure physical suffering. If it were a normal person, being given CPR for such a long time would likely result in further pain upon recovery. Some might even suffer broken ribs or punctured lungs.

 

"Let me see," I said, crawling back across the bed to him. Fourteen didn't say anything, just nodded slightly and stood still, letting me press on his chest point by point. "Does it hurt here?"

 

Fourteen shook his head, so I moved my fingertip to another spot not far from the previous one.

 

"Right here."

 

He shook his head again.

 

"This is it."

 

He still shook his head as before. No matter where he pressed, Fourteen showed no sign of pain. While it's good that he doesn't have to feel pain, from a biological standpoint, physical pain is crucial for human survival. Pain alerts us to inflammation or injury. Without feeling pain, we wouldn't know we were sick, and worse, we wouldn't possess the instinct for survival. But if it's the Grim Reaper, does that mean I can let him suffer indefinitely?

 

I don't know how life-threatening this injury will be for Fourteen, but as a doctor, I can't just ignore it. I got out of bed, went to my desk, opened the side drawer, and rummaged for my old stethoscope, which I remembered keeping there. Before returning to the injured boy who was still standing by the bed, I found he was more cooperative than usual, which surprised me.

 

"Let me listen to your lungs," I blurted out without thinking, but I played along because Fourteen didn't object to my sudden doctor-like behaviour. "Take a deep breath."

 

But the moment I heard my own command, before I could even place the voice receiver on his chest, a certain question arose in my mind. It was unbelievable that I had never thought about it before.

 

"Wait... do you breathe normally?"

 

"Breathe," Fourteen replied.

 

"How can there be no pulse if you're breathing? Your heart isn't even beating."

 

"I don't know," the young Grim Reaper replied with a naive expression. It seemed he genuinely didn't know. "I don't know how things work inside, what kind of internal organs are there, but I have to breathe so my chest can move, and air comes out of my nose, just like a human."

 

This means that the primary function of a Grim Reaper's physical body is to mimic the outward appearance of humans to blend in, but its internal systems may not function the same way because they are not necessary for survival like those of ordinary humans.

 

"And if something blocked your airway and you couldn't breathe, would you die?"

 

"I won't die, because I'm not human."

 

"It's difficult to understand."

 

Even knowing that, I still tried to listen to his lungs. Even if there was a real injury, and fourteen years old wasn't really dead yet, I couldn't help but wonder what was inside him. What was similar or not human? And what else could a human body without a beating heart be, if not a corpse, as I was familiar with?

 

"Try taking a deep breath," I instructed, and Fourteen complied without complaint, though his face showed a lack of understanding as to why I was examining him. "Exhale slowly."

 

"How was it?" he asked. "Did you hear anything?"

 

"You have lungs," I replied with a touch of excitement. This was the first time I'd heard the sounds of something other than a human body working. "It sounds strange, but it doesn't sound like there's a problem."

 

"How strange?"

 

"Again?" "Hmm..." I pondered, trying to translate the sounds I heard into a simple explanation for him. "The sound of your lungs is like..."

 

"Children's lungs?"

 

"Mm-hmm," I nodded, trying my best to stifle a laugh. Just imagine: he's a fully grown, big, burly man, yet his lungs sound like a child's. "Little kids have thin chest walls, no muscle, and their bones aren't strong yet; their lungs will sound loud like that."

 

"No muscles..." Fourteen mumbled softly, looking down at his own body with utter confusion. His bewildered expression made me laugh. "My bones aren't strong?"

 

But I understand him. Fourteen looks like a very strong guy, with beautifully sculpted muscles almost everywhere. I'd be confused too if I were suddenly told that I wasn't strong or that some parts of my body looked like a small child's.

 

"It's probably just a special characteristic of a Grim Reaper's body. Don't think too much about it," I said, chuckling. Fourteen nodded slowly. He still seemed disbelieving, but didn't seem to care much. If I were him, I'd think the same. Even if it's a little strange, as long as I'm not dead, that's enough. "By the way, why did you take off your shirt?"

"I went to take a shower."

 

"Now?" I asked, my voice rising, glancing at the bedside clock, which showed 3:34 AM. This was unusually late for him; he never showered later than 10 PM. Even though we didn't get back to the room until 1:30 AM tonight, showering at 3 AM was a bit much, wasn't it? "Didn't you already shower?"

 

"Not yet," Fourteen shook his head. "I was so engrossed in reading comics that I forgot to shower."

 

I thought back to before bed. After returning from the hospital, I was quite tired, so I quickly showered and went to bed. Thinking about it now, I didn't actually see him go into the bathroom.

 

"What are you doing by my bedside?" I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Sneaking around and staring at me while I slept again, huh?"

 

"No," the grim reaper denied instantly with a straight face. "I came to wake you up."

 

"Why wake me up?"

 

"Because you were making strange noises." Fourteen's face was expressionless as he said that, but it was I who suddenly felt a flush of heat spread across my face. My brain processed the events, replaying that dream over and over again, giving me no chance to compose myself. "You sounded like you were dying."

 

First of all, "Oh no... Fourteen!" I groaned, covering my face with my hands in utter embarrassment. I've never wanted to disappear into the ground so much in my life. He heard it all, my lewd dreams. I have nothing left.

 

"Why? I'm just afraid of —"

 

"Stop!" I lunged forward and covered the Grim Reaper's mouth. I couldn't bear to hear another word from him, let alone make eye contact. All I could see was the ground. "I know. Don't say anything more. Please."

 

"Are you shy?" Fourteen mumbled through my hand.

 

"Wouldn't you be ashamed, seriously?"

 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," he shook his head. "It's human nature."

 

"I know, but it's-"

 

"Most people are naturally preoccupied with sex. Especially if you've always had a partner, it's not surprising that you'd miss them now that you're single."

 

"Things like that, when you think about them a lot, your subconscious will turn them into dreams."

 

I was speechless. Fourteen casually told me I was obsessed with sex. I'm not obsessed at all; I just have normal needs. I can live comfortably without them. But who can control their dreams anyway? Especially when I dream about P'Fah. How can I refuse?

 

"So there's nothing to be ashamed of. Just please be mindful," Fourteen said, crossing his arms and looking at me as he always did before lecturing me about something. "Even though I look like your boyfriend, you mustn't think 'that' about me, and don't do what you just did again."

 

"Hey, I wouldn't do that anyway."

 

"And I will absolutely not have sex with you, no matter how much you beg."

 

"Ha?"

 

"Sorry"

 

After saying that, the arrogant Grim Reaper just walked away abruptly, leaving me with a level of humiliation that, if I didn't vent it out, I would surely explode.

 

"Fourteen!"

 

"Ah"

 

I threw a pillow at him, and it hit him right in the face. Because that clumsy Grim Reaper has no survival instincts, no reflexes, and doesn't dodge anything that comes his way, he got hit full force, as you can see.

 

"I didn't want anything to do with you either!"

 

"But you moaned my name just now."

 

"Ha?"

 

I'm confused like a chicken.

 

Me? Calling his name...

 

"kid"

 

A second pillow flew through the air and hit his handsome face again before I gave him two middle fingers and burrowed under the blanket, not wanting to look at him for another second. Then both pillows were thrown back. One hit me in the back, the other hit me squarely on the back of the head.

 

"Stop daydreaming and go to sleep."

 

Damn...you bastard!

 

"And don't let me hear you moaning again."

 

I hate him the most.

 

If the day of my death truly comes, please send another Grim Reaper to take me away.