My Soul card is a Reaper

As if mourning the fate of two souls torn apart, rain poured in heavy sheets over the city. The streets glistened under the storm's relentless fury, water pooling in uneven roads, neon lights reflecting in distorted puddles.

Azzy walked alone.

His head was bowed, his dark hair soaked and clinging to his skin, but he didn't care. He barely felt the cold. His steps were slow, unhurried—his mind trapped in the past.

Flashes of memory surfaced, vivid and relentless.

Claire's laughter when they first met.

The warmth of her hand in his when they used to sneak away from the academy to watch the stars.

The whispered promises made under moonlit skies, when love had felt like an absolute truth—a force of nature as undeniable as time itself.

And then, the shattering moment when she had looked him in the eyes and told him, with unyielding certainty, that she no longer loved him.

His chest ached, a hollow, gnawing pain that even divine strength could not heal.

He had gone through hell to find her. And for what? To be told he no longer had a place beside her? To be discarded as though the years they spent together meant nothing?

The Reaper's voice echoed within his mind, whispering of his foolishness, of the futility of human emotions.

But Azzy ignored him.

He walked through the storm, through the deserted streets, until he reached the apartment where he had been staying before shifting to Leiza's house.

The moment he stepped inside, the world fell silent.

The only sound was the quiet dripping of water from his clothes, forming small puddles on the wooden floor.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his soaked hair. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on him—not just physical, but something deeper, something he couldn't shake.

Then—a noise at the door.

His senses flared, but he didn't react aggressively. He simply lifted his gaze, watching as the door swung open.

Leiza stood there.

She was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hair was damp, and she held an umbrella, though it had done little to keep her dry.

Azzy frowned. "Leiza? What are you doing here?"

The storm outside raged on, relentless and unforgiving. The sound of raindrops drumming against the windows filled the dimly lit apartment, creating a rhythmic echo that matched the silence stretching between Azzy and Leiza.

She stood there, drenched, her breath still uneven from running through the city in search of him. The umbrella she had brought—now abandoned on the floor—served no purpose anymore.

Her eyes, filled with an intensity that Azzy did not expect, searched his face.

"I looked for you everywhere."

Her voice was laced with something deeper than concern. A quiet desperation. A need to reach him.

Azzy barely moved. His body felt heavier than before, as if the weight of the world had settled into his bones.

Leiza hesitated for a brief moment, then stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

"Did you find her?" she asked softly.

Azzy didn't answer immediately.

His gaze flickered toward the window, where flashes of lightning illuminated the storm outside. Then, in a voice that carried none of the usual strength it once held, he finally spoke.

"It's over."

Leiza's breath hitched.

Something inside her clenched painfully at his words—not because she didn't already know the answer, but because of the way he said it.

Not in anger.

Not in sadness.

But in the quiet, hollow tone of a man who had let go of something he had spent years holding onto.

Slowly, she stepped closer. Then closer still.

The storm outside faded into the background as she reached for him.

Azzy barely had time to react before he was pulled into her embrace. His body stiffened for a fraction of a second.

Then, without meaning to, he exhaled.

It wasn't relief.

It wasn't acceptance.

It was something else entirely—something he didn't have a name for.

Leiza held onto him as if she could shield him from the storm inside his heart.

Her arms tightened around him, her warmth pressing against his cold, rain-soaked form. She didn't speak right away. She just let him exist in that space, letting her heartbeat fill the silence he had been drowning in.

Then, slowly, she pulled back just enough to look at him.

Her hands came up to his face, her thumbs brushing lightly against his damp skin. "I know this isn't the best time…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzy's golden eyes, weary and unreadable, met hers.

Leiza swallowed hard, but she didn't waver. "I need you to know… there's someone who loves you more than anyone else in this world."

The words fell between them like a confession etched in eternity.

Azzy's breath caught in his throat.

Leiza didn't stop. She couldn't. Not now. "I know I'm not strong." Her voice trembled, but her grip on him did not. "I know I'm weak… that I'll probably always need you to protect me."

She inhaled sharply, as if trying to gather every ounce of courage left in her soul. "But I promise you… one day, that won't be the case. One day, you won't have to worry about me."

Her hands, still cradling his face, tightened ever so slightly.

"It's only been a little over a week since we've met." A sad, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at her lips. "I don't even know when it happened. I just…"

She exhaled, shaking her head.

Then, with raw honesty that left no room for doubt, she whispered, "I love you."

Azzy froze.

Leiza's gaze burned with sincerity, with an unwavering devotion that had no expectations—only truth. "It doesn't matter if you love someone else. It doesn't matter if you never see me that way."

Her fingers curled slightly against his skin.

"All that matters is that I love you. And it hurts… it hurts so much to see you like this."

Azzy didn't know what to say.

For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss for words.

The rain outside continued to fall, but at that moment, it felt distant—as if the only world that existed was the one within these four walls.

Leiza didn't expect him to respond. She didn't expect anything at all. But even so… she couldn't take back what she had said.

She wouldn't. Because it was the truth. And he deserved to know it.

Azzy stared at her, his mind clouded in a way he had never felt before. He was always calculating, controlled, composed. But right now?

Right now, he was none of those things.

Leiza's confession still echoed in his ears, raw and unfiltered, stirring something deep inside him that he wasn't ready to face.

And yet, when she cupped his face with trembling fingers and pulled him closer, he didn't move away.

Her breath mingled with his, warm and uneven, carrying emotions that words could never capture.

His golden eyes flickered with something dangerously human as their lips finally met.

The moment their mouths pressed together, a spark ignited—a slow burn that started in his chest and spread like wildfire.

Leiza kissed him as if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life, pouring everything she couldn't say aloud into the way her lips moved against his.

And Azzy?

He let her.

He let himself get lost in the sensation, let himself drown in the softness of her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against his. Perhaps, he just wanted a distraction from the pain he felt from the official break up with Claire or perhaps, it was truly intoxicating.

A part of him knew that he was crossing a line he could never uncross.

But he didn't care.

Not now.

Not when she was here—holding him together when everything else was falling apart.

His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the way her body trembled against his. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him tighter, as if she was afraid he would disappear.

But he wasn't going anywhere.

Not tonight.

Not when she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

They broke apart only for a second—just long enough for their eyes to meet.

Leiza's cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted, her breathing ragged.

Azzy didn't give her time to say anything.

He leaned in again, kissing her deeper, harder— as if this was the only way he could express what he didn't have the words for.

Somewhere between the feverish kisses and the way their bodies pressed closer together, clothes started to disappear.

Leiza's hands roamed over his skin, tentative at first, then bolder. Caressing his chest, lowering down to the abs, her hands reached lower down to his waist, slipping into his underwear.

Azzy shivered at her touch, a sensation he wasn't used to—wasn't prepared for.

But he welcomed it.

For once, he let himself feel.

The storm outside raged on, but inside this room, loud moans filled.