"Hey, beautiful!" a male voice called from behind you while you were waiting to board a train. You turned to see a golden-haired man with glasses and playful green eyes. The bottom half of his hair was dyed black, drawing your attention to his suit. "Wanna get a drink after the train stops?"

"Not really," you muttered, unwilling to be swept up in the trifles of a relationship, especially one involving a ladykiller. He chuckled.

"Too bad. Let me know if you change your mind... if we meet alive, that is." You were about to ask what he meant by 'meeting alive' when the whistle blew, and you rushed forward to get on the train. You didn't see the mysterious blond after that.

<><><>

When you dismounted from the train, you had only taken two steps when disaster struck. Before you knew it, you were running full-tilt, away from the exploding train, trying not to trip over your own feet.

"Oh? Would ya look at that; it's that beauty that turned me down earlier."

"Shut up and focus, Knox. We're on the job."

"Yes, yes, senior."

When you had foolishly glanced back to the familiar voice behind you, you turned your ankle and collapsed in the field you had been running in, surrounded by wildflowers. But the fire was spreading; you could hear it crackling louder and louder.

Rapidly, and trying to ignore the pain in your foot, you stood and started running again, soon finding yourself in another town. And yet... why was the fire still coming? You kept running.

You suddenly had a moment where everything stopped, and all you saw was the sky. The clouds blurred into bizarre shapes, finally blinding you, turning your vision white.

<><><>

"AAAH—ah?" To your surprise, you were laying down in bed, your hand outstretched for the ceiling. You sat up. "Where... am I?" You got out of bed to discover there was a note by your bedside.

It read, "Hi, Miss Beauty. Not sure if you remember me, but I asked you out for a drink? My name is Ronald Knox, by the way. More to the point, I signed you into an inn because you suddenly collapsed. I didn't know I was that handsome! Okay, I'll stop. But I'll be in the lounge from 4 - 6 P.M., should you want to talk to me."

You folded the note away before you glanced at the clock in your room. 4:30 P.M. You had been touched by the fact that the man called 'Ronald Knox' would go so far, so you decided to find him in the end. The only question was... how had you known his last name was Knox before he told you...?

<><><>

"Hi there," Ronald said with a wave, gesturing at the couch he was sitting in. "Care to join me?" Shrugging slightly, you sat next to him as he picked up what appeared to be a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

"Um, Mr. Knox—"

"Don't be so formal. Call me Ronald!"

"Right, Ronald, thank you for caring for me and everything, but I don't really have much money—I can't pay you back." Ronald chuckled, draining his glass.

"You thought I was after money?" Ronald tutted disapprovingly, taking one of the ice cubes from the glass and inspecting it. "Miss Beauty, I'm a fun-loving guy. When I'm not at work, I'm probably at a party buying everyone drinks. I do it because I want to. If I was expecting anything, it would be to have a laugh and maybe even get a steady girlfriend."

"So are you after me then?"

"That's for you to decide," Ronald gave you a wink, standing up. "I'm getting another drink. Want one?" You sighed.

"Fine; it can't hurt." Ronald smiled.

"I'm picking for you. You mind?" You shrugged; you didn't really care. With that, Ronald disappeared from your sight. He was a nice guy, but you couldn't get that thought out of your head that he was some sort of playboy. Ronald shortly returned carrying two glasses of presumably red wine. "I hope you like sweet things," Ronald said with a grin as he handed you your glass.

"I suppose I have a bit of a sweet tooth," you replied, taking a measured sip of the wine. Your eyes widened at just how sweet it was; it was like sugar times six. But it was both addicting and delicious. Ronald tapped the glass against his lips a few times.

"So, Miss Beauty, what is your name?"

"My name is F/N L/N. I don't need formalities either." If he called you 'Miss Beauty' one more time, you might not be able to control your blush; there weren't many people that complimented you, especially not hot guys like him.

"Alright, F/N. Anything you want to know about me?" You were finally about to ask about your dream when something started irritating your eye. You blinked furiously, trying to get rid of it, but the irritant remained, and Ronald seemed to notice. "Oh, one of your eyelashes is at the edge of your eye. Here, let me help." Ronald leaned closer to look before he reached up with a hand to remove it. You didn't budge an inch, debating between leaning away or leaning towards him when he leaned away, discarding your eyelash.

"T-Thank you—Oh, but there was something I wanted to ask you! You see, I had this dream where I went on the train and disembarked, but it blew up, and I started running. The thing was, I heard you talking to someone, and they told you to focus on doing work or something like that. I also heard your last name..." For a brief moment, you saw a frown cross Ronald's face, but you assumed you had imagined it when he laughed.

"That is waaay to accurate, F/N! Will is always telling me to focus when I get the slightest bit off-task."

"That reminds me... what do you do for a living?" You suddenly heard a shrill beeping sound, and you looked down to discover it was a watch on Ronald's wrist that was making the sound. It was exactly 6:00 P.M. Had you really been here that long?

"Sorry, F/N! Gotta run!" With that, you were left alone with two glasses of wine and a question.

<><><>

"Knox, you are a fool," the tall man with glasses said as you felt something underneath you. "Now she'll want to know all about you, and not only that, but you may have altered the to-die list."

"Would you relax?" Ronald asked, and you realized you were being carried. "I already checked the list extensively. She's not meant to die here. Really, how much of this is she going to remember? She's barely lucid right now." As if on cue, you giggled as the mouse-haired man nursed the bridge of his nose.

"We are supposed to carry out our duties without emotion, without interfering in the lives of the living. You have violated one of our rules, Ronald. I'll have to report this to administration."

"Yeah, yeah, Will. You go do that." Will sighed and disappeared from sight. "So, F/N M/N L/N... what to do with you...?"

<><><>

You woke up from your nap, surprised that you had a jacket draped over your shoulders. You eventually recognized it as Ronald's suit jacket and sat up. Curious, you sniffed the jacket, and it oddly smelled like F/S.

"Curious, are we?" a sly voice to your left asked, and you blushed to see Ronald resting his forearms and chin on the sofa's back. "No need to be shy around me." You shook your head and tried to give him his suit jacket back.

"Thanks for lending it to me," you stated, trying to sound unfazed. "So... what do you do for work...?" you asked, remembering your strange dream that oddly seemed real. Ronald made a discontented noise and rested his cheek against his palm.

"Why do you wanna know anyway? What do you do for a living?"

"Well, I'm trying to start my own business," you muttered. "And anyway, why do you keep finding ways to avoid the question?" Ronald, in a display of athleticism, flipped over the couch with one hand to land on the other side of you.

"It's not a profession in your sense as I am not paid to do it," Ronald began.

"What is it?"

"I am a Grim Reaper. I cut the Cinematic Record and therefore put an official end to a life," he replied, his voice cold. You stared at him, and you saw in his eyes that he 1) didn't expect you to believe it and 2) that he was telling the truth.

"I've heard of stranger professions," you replied simply. "I met one guy who said it was his job to purify everything in sight by fire. Wait, is he the one that destroyed the train?"

"No, that was an accident..." Ronald corrected. "Anyway, now that you know, aren't you afraid?" You shook your head.

"Why would I be? You saved my life. I'm not an ingrate. From what I gather, Will reported you or something?" Ronald chuckled.

"So you were paying attention. My judgement must be terrible. Yeah, my trial is in a few minutes. They might extend my sentence."

"Are you going to take your jacket back, Mr. Pessimist?" You asked teasingly, and he finally took it.

"Well, before I go..." Ronald quickly pecked your lips before he left you alone to very nearly lose your mind.