Time was running out for Iver. You knew that.

Actually, his time ran out three years ago, when you were supposed to send him to the afterlife.

But unfortunately you were given the curse of love.

When you met Iver for the first time disguised as a mortal, he was one of the first people who didn't look at you suspiciously or just inched away from you. He treated you as if you weren't a monster, unlike others who could somehow sense that you meant no good.

You decided to spare him for a day or two. And then those days turned into months, along with shared tiny kisses and sitting on the couch with him while sharing a cup of coffee. Those months turned into years, and it has led you here.

The Heavens have just now realized they were missing someone walking through the golden gates for three years, and you were responsible for it. They warned you, saying that if you didn't take him to the afterlife within the next few months, you'd be severely punished. You've heard what happens to reapers who are severely punished. It was said to be eternal torture. Not just for them, but for the mortal they were supposed to take away.

You laid on Iver's white bed, the window of the city beaming through the corner of your eye. Iver laid on top of you, resting his head against your chest and looking up at you with a warm smile. He was getting paler and paler by the day, and his glasses rested on the nightstand.

"You must be a blessing in disguise..." He muttered, looking up at you in awe.