Rio could feel the weight of eyes upon her. At first, it was subtle, like the forest whispered her name when no one else was near. The presence, however, became undeniable—a quiet, constant watching. Every time she passed the clearing, she knew someone was hiding there, always a little further away, always peeking from behind the trees.

She wasn’t sure why it intrigued her. Mortals didn’t seek her out. They feared her. Yet, this one—this girl—was different. She watched, with eyes full of something Rio couldn’t quite name.

And one day, she caught her. The girl was crouched low, her breath shallow, but when their eyes met, the mortal didn’t flinch, didn’t run as Rio had expected. She stayed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Rio had said, her voice sharp and cold. But the girl simply stepped forward, her gaze unwavering.

“I want to be near you,” the girl said softly, and something inside Rio shifted, unease blending with something warmer she couldn’t quite suppress.

Days passed, and Rio found herself returning to the same spot, as if drawn by an invisible thread. The girl was there, always hidden but never hiding, her curiosity clear in every lingering glance. There was a pull between them, hot and cold, like two forces on the edge of something neither could fully comprehend.

The girl never hesitated to share her thoughts, her feelings, even as Rio kept her distance. And despite herself, despite the thousands of years Rio had lived, the girl’s openness flustered her.

It was one night, by the flickering light of a campfire, that the girl asked the question that lingered between them like a heavy fog.

“Why don’t you want me ?”

Rio didn’t know how to answer. The cold mask she had worn for eternity faltered. She could feel the girl’s gaze, steady and open, and it threatened to undo her.

“I am Death,” she whispered, her voice distant and uncertain. “You are life. You shouldn’t want me.”