#xeri

Xeri kicks their feet idly over the side of the roof. It feels odd—you’ve been associating with mortals for a while now, and they tend to avoid heights, or at least, leaning precariously off the edge of tall buildings.

Xeri has no such fears, and why should they? A Reaper isn’t mortal.

“Humans are such strange creatures, aren’t they?” Xeri holds up a dark forefinger and thumb, capturing a tiny figure walking far below between them.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, joining them on the ledge.

“Always in a rush to get from here or there, knowing they could die at any moment.” They turn to face you, dreads falling across their face. Reflexively you reach out, tucking some of the locks behind one of their pointed ears.

Xeri stills, an unnatural, statue-like ability that reminds you how different their upbringing was. At least they stopped assuming every attempt at touch was an attack. Their scythe is sharp.

“Unnecessary,” Xeri comments, turning their head away. “You know I do not see with my eyes. It is a focal point to help reassure the human souls I collect.” They sniff. You refrain from commenting that the blue, fiery pinpricks set in a field of milky stars are likely to be more unsettling than not.

“Maybe I just like seeing your face,” you tease instead, turning to look down at the city.

“Hmmph,” Xeri grouses, one foot kicking high and stopping, pointing up towards the cloudy skies. “Sentiment. Of the sappy variety, I believe you might say.” There’s a tiny curve to their lips that gives away their feelings, however.

“You know you like my sappiness,” you goad, leaning against their small shoulder.

“Debatable,” Xeri retorts, poking your shoulder until you return to an upright position.

“Proven fact,” you counter, leaning back.

“Why am I here, again?” Xeri sighs, leaning back next to you, head dropping back to stare up at the clouds.

“Because you love me?”

“Do not be ridiculous. I tolerate you.” There’s a smile on their face now, belittling their words.

“Yet you are spending some of your very busy, very valuable time with me,” you offer.

“Remind me why?” Xeri turns towards you, sharp features softened by their expression.

“I already did,” you answer, leaning towards them.

“Yes, yes, your theory on me being attracted to you. I cannot fathom why. You are a strange, odd angel,” Xeri muses, tapping the tip of your nose.

“Well, you’re the one that said you’d like to try some more human courting rituals.” You draw the words out, studying their face, memorizing the hard planes and angles. On a human, you might call their features gaunt, but there’s a kind of refined elegance to their features, unforgiving cheekbones with a large nose and soft, enticing lips.

“Yes. You suggested kissing?” Xeri sits up abruptly, tilting their head. “From what I understand, kissing is when two people press their mouths together, yes?”

You waver back and forth. “In a fashion. It also counts when you press your lips to anything—it doesn’t have to be another person’s lips.”

Xeri frowns. “It looks painful.”

You blink. “What?”

“People do that when they see someone dying, sometimes. They often break ribs in the process. Neither party seems to enjoy it much. Are humans all masochists?” It takes a moment for you to figure out what Xeri is saying.

When you do, you start to laugh. Xeri scowls, which only sends you into more fits.

“I fail to understand why anyone would want to engage in kissing if the result is always bruises and injuries,” they continue stubbornly.

You gasp for air, trying to regain control “Xeri, that’s not kissing.”

Xeri arches their brows. “You said kissing is pressing lips to something. That is what the humans do.”

“That is called CPR. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. The hands on the chest are to try and help circulate air, while the ‘kiss’ is to give the body oxygen. It is not romantic kissing,” you explain.

“But by your definition it is still a kiss. And most of the time the people are going to die anyways,” Xeri mutters, folding their arms across their chest.

“Give me your hand,” you say, holding yours out.

Xeri flicks their eyes sideways, scrutinizing you. “I am not in the mood for being made light of,” they warn, slowly uncrossing their arms and placing one of their hands in yours. It’s dry, and that makes you think that they might enjoy a nice lotion, if you can convince them it’s not a wasteful practice.

“I don’t make light of you,” you say with a wink. “You are the light of my life,” you continue, drawing their hand up to your face, giving them plenty of time to pull away.

Slowly, reverently, you lean down and brush your lips across the back of their knuckles. Xeri’s back straightens and their eyes go wide.

“That is not at all like this… CPR…” they murmur in wonder.

“Does that mean you like it?”

Xeri sighs. “I am… amenable to exploring more of this kissing—if you try to rein in that insufferable ego of yours.”

You grin, and Xeri glowers at you. “There it goes. Too late. I take it back. No kissing.”

Your smile vanishes, and you pout. “Fine, if that’s what you wish. At least I still have hand-holding.”

Xeri purses their lips, stealing your hand and holding it between theirs. “You are making fun of me, are you not?” they enquire.

“Never,” you respond.

“…you know I did not mean what I said.”

“Do I?”

Xeri groans. Glaring at you, they lift your hand, and give your knuckles a perfunctory touch of their lips.

Your lips twitch up, but you keep your smile contained.

“I am not wholly opposed to kissing. With you,” they reluctantly state.

“Awww, it sounds like you might like me.” Your smile breaks over your face as Xeri grumbles under their breath.

“I refrain from indulging in emotions, but I will admit to finding you an exception to the rule.”

You lean over, planting a kiss on top of their head. “I love you too.”