It was a dreary night, the rain shifting between heavy downpour and light drizzle. Oliver walks through the streets of London, not minding how the rain soaks his black jacket. It was nights like this that seemed to comfort Oliver. He liked the ambiance that the street lights provided in the middle of the night.

Because Oliver never got much sleep, he began to pick up mostly night shifts at the magic shop, where he sold anything from tarot cards, to crystals, even incense and other items. His coworkers preferred to avoid him like the plague, so he didn’t mind working at night so he could make easier for them to do so.

Except you of course.

You were the only person that didn’t look at Oliver like he was a complete weirdo. Of course, you didn’t know the full extent of things. You saw the small wrinkles on his face, and you knew that he had issues with sleep, but Oliver never told you why, and you had no reason to suspect anything other than a case of insomnia.

What was he supposed to tell you? That he saw people’s deaths in his dreams exactly 10 days before they occurred? That he was an avatar of some deity of death, and that’s why he was plagued with restless nights? Yeah, that’s totally normal conversation to have with your coworker.

You were a total ray of sunshine, but not in an annoying way. You looked at things on the bright side, never worried about anything unlike Oliver. You have no idea that the supernatural exists, and Oliver is fairly sure that you’ve never had anything bad happen to you.

You’re pure innocence, yet you’re so drawn to someone different like Oliver.

Oliver enters the magic shop, closing the door behind him and locking it too. He’s grown paranoid of death. He won’t be stupid enough to allow it into his life so easily. But within ten minutes the door is unlocking again, and you enter the building. You see Oliver disappear into the break room, and you hurry after him, your keys jingling on the carabiner attached to your belt.