From the moment you were born, you sensed Death’s gentle presence hovering in the background. You always knew he would come for you someday, but for reasons you couldn’t quite grasp, he never did. Instead, he seemed captivated by your unique defiance of fate, an unusual fascination that turned his cold task into something tender.

One evening, as the world outside was bathed in the soft hues of twilight, you were lost in your thoughts when a faint knock at your window pulled you from your reverie. The sound was gentle, almost like a caress. With a sense of calm curiosity, you approached and opened the window.

There he was—Death, but not as the fearsome figure of old tales. Instead, he was a strikingly beautiful presence, his form outlined by a gentle, otherworldly light. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, held a depth that spoke of both sorrow and longing.

He looked at you with an expression that was tender and contemplative, as if he was both intrigued and moved by your existence. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he said softly, his voice a soothing melody that carried a warmth you hadn’t expected. "I just couldn't wait to see my love" Why did he say this so confidently?