e.g. Richard of

e.g. the of November)

e.g. the 6th of

You were just an ordinary noblewoman, coerced into a marriage you hated by your parents. But hey, you had good friends to take your thoughts away from your terrible husband, so it wasn't as if it was all bad.

In fact, while he wasn't at your estate, it was nice, quiet life. You read, embroidered, occasionally wrote, had a relaxing cup of tea... yes, it was perfect until your husband came home.

When he did, it was the complete opposite. You got into many full-blown arguments, occasionally even going so far as to physically fight from time to time, no doubt making the servants anxious and frightened. To say the least, you were both sick of each other.

But one night, everything changed.

You had just gone out to get some air on the balcony, if only to calm your temper, when suddenly, you were roughly pushed over the balustrade, the last sight you saw being your temperamental husband watching you fall.

<><><>

"F/N M/N L/N of P/N. Born B/D B/M 1864 . Died on the first of January, 1889 due to a 21 meter fall. Remarks—none."

Died?

"Please, you must be mistaken!" you cried to the blurry figure standing in front of you.

"Oh? I am surprised you can still speak." You clutched at the figure's... leg? Pants? You couldn't seem to distinguish the two. "Not to mention move... Most impressive, but you are not remarkable enough to be spared from death." The figure paused, moving. "What?!" The figure shrunk, and you guessed they were kneeling. "But the Cinematic Record won't be cut... why? Could it be that I am... hesitating?" You were growing weaker as the figure pondered, the muscles in your hand slackening and your neck no longer having the strength to keep your head up. "This is ridiculous..." You heard nothing else as your vision faded to black.

<><><>

"She's awake! Lord L/N, she's awake!" someone shouted as you slowly opened your eyes, startled by the lights. Eventually, you managed to sit up and look around the room you were in. A hospital. That hadn't been a dream, had it?

Judging by your husband's face, it definitely had not been a dream—at least the part where your husband tried to murder you. You glared at him as best you could before you were forced to lie back down again by the doctor.

"Easy there, Lady L/N. Get some rest, and I'll be able to let you out of here soon. I'll check up on you every other hour to see how you are." With that, the doctor left you alone in the otherwise empty recovery ward with your husband.

"Well, honey, you may have survived the first time," your husband began, walking towards your bed, making you shoot to a sitting position. "But I bet you won't survive the second time!" With that, your husband took out a knife and tried to slit your throat.

"For the love of Saint Peter..." a familiar voice grumbled. "You can't preserve the life I gave back to you?" Your husband whipped his head back at the man wearing glasses at the foot of your bed.

"Who the hell are you?!" your husband raged.

"This is a hospital; I would advise you to be quiet, H/N L/N," the man said, and through the glare on his lenses, you could see his greenish-yellow eyes were cold as ice. "So, F/N? Are you incapable of keeping yourself alive?"

"H-Hey!" You tried to protest, but you were still weak.

"I suppose it is difficult to move with all of your ribs broken," the man said, removing his glasses and polishing them on a cloth from his breast-pocket. "But you really could make more of an effort."

"Shut up," your husband growled, "And get out!" Again, he tried to slit your throat, but this time, the hand wielding the knife was held back by another: a black-gloved one.

"Please do not undo my work," the taller male commanded flatly, squeezing your husband's hand hard enough to break his thumb. As the knife fell from his hand, he ran screeching like a little girl.

"Thank you," you murmured to the brown-haired man before you fell asleep, exhausted.

<><><>

Before you knew it, you were out of the hospital, but no one had come to see you since your husband had tried to kill you a second time, not even the mysterious man who had saved you not once, but twice.

Since you didn't want to see your husband again, you quickly dialed the number for your best friend's manor on the hospital phone and asked if you could stay there for a while. To the contrary of your earlier beliefs, your best friend was extremely enthusiastic about the idea and almost immediately agreed.

You called for a Hansom Cab and told the coach to take you to the Fr/L/N estate, where, upon arriving, you paid him his fare and made way into the estate to be greeted by two extremely excited individuals who both hugged you at the same time.

"Lady F/N, it's been too long!" a woman squealed.

"You really should visit us more often," a man scolded. The pair let you go, smiling. "But come! The servants have prepared our guest room especially for you!" With that, they started dragging you towards the beautiful room, wherein you saw a child of about five years look at you curiously.

"Auntie!" he suddenly cried, flinging his small arms around your leg, and you smiled; you had missed the cheerfulness of this place. Unlike your marriage, your friend's had been happy from the start, and she and her husband had already had a child before their second anniversary.

"C/N, she's not my sister," your friend lightly chided.

"I wish," you muttered, making her chuckle.

"Auntie, Auntie!" the child persisted, running around you as if you were the sun. Eventually though, he got so dizzy that he fell down and had to be carried by his father.

"Well, anyway, F/N, I hope you don't mind if I drop the formalities and just show you your room." You nodded, smiling, and Fr/N smiled back, taking the key from a nearly invisible servant and opening the door to the room in front of you.

As you expected, the room was better than your own, and you longed to stay here for longer, but the main thing on your mind was getting your husband removed from the picture—chances were he was going to keep trying until you finally died.

"Thank you, Fr/N."

<><><>

That night, you woke in a cold sweat, remembering when you'd been pushed off the balcony six weeks ago. To your surprise, your door slowly opened, and in walked the figure of your husband, and you got out of bed, taking the knife from your nightstand and pointing it at him.

"Stay back," you snarled, and your husband smiled, holding up a gun, aimed at your head.

"You're dead this time, you damn bitch."

"Right in the middle of my collecting. Really, H/N L/N? Don't make me reap you." Your savior said from your doorway, staring at a book of some sort.

"You again? No matter; I'll just shoot you first!" You screamed as your husband fired at the man in glasses; however, he did not budge an inch. He held up, between his thumb and forefinger, the bullet before pocketing it. "D-Demon!" he wailed, firing the remaining bullets, but the man caught them all between the same two fingers.

"I will thank you not to associate me with those foul creatures," the man replied irritatedly, pushing up his glasses. "And please do stop trying to kill your wife; it's quite tiresome." With wide, frightened eyes, your husband pushed past the man, running out of the manor.

"I'll remember this!" you heard him scream.

"Auntie?" you heard a small, sleepy voice murmur. "Are you okay?" You looked at the area your savior wasn't taking up in the doorway to see C/N rubbing his eye while clutching Funtom's Bitter Rabbit. You wondered why the boy had come, but then you remembered you had screamed rather loudly.

"I am quite alright, thank you, C/N. You're so kind." You smiled brightly at the boy, and he beamed at you in return, running out of the room in excitement. "Thank you again, Mr. Savior."

"It's not savior; it's William. William T. Spears to be precise."

"Why do you keep saving my life, Sir William? It's not that I don't appreciate it, but... why should a complete stranger save me so many times?" You saw the stoic man crack a slight smile.

"Sir?" he questioned softly, making you blush a little; you hadn't done it intentionally, but it still felt embarrassing. "To be honest with you, I do not know why I first violated the rules to save you, but every time after that has been to keep my work from being undone."

"The rules?"

"I am a Grim Reaper, F/N. As such, I am not allowed to give those who are dead or dying second chances unless special circumstances apply. None of those circumstances apply to you." Again, William's eyes were cold as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, surprising him.

"What for?"

"I've inconvenienced you quite badly, right? And I made you break those rules..."

"Don't be so conceited. I chose to break them of my own free will for my own gain," William refuted.

"What do you gain though?" you inquired, tilting your head confusedly.

"Uhh—well, that's um... Shut up! I saved your life three times, so stop asking questions!" Unable to help yourself, you laughed at William, holding your stomach as William's flustered blush cleared.

"Are you suuure you don't know why you saved me the first time?" you asked mischievously, and he marched up to you, his mouth set in a tight line.

"Stop. Asking. Questions."

"Or what?" you questioned with a smirk.

"I said no more questions," he growled softly before he silenced you with his mouth.

So that was it...