My hands behind my back fall to my side. Why? My heart beats in a panic and I don't know why. "Have you given up on your wings? Are you—"

Grimm comes closer and lowers his voice. "I'm not giving up on anything." My eyes stay on his midnight eyes. "I've been away from the Lands of the Dead for too long. I must return and perform my duties and fulfill my purpose. I have to execute and escort souls to where they belong. But I will be back." He makes it sound like a promise.

I hadn't forgotten who he was, I just—I just thought—I don't know what I thought. And for a split moment, his starry eyes glance down at my lips and my heart moves in a different direction. No longer panicking, but moving too fast, too impatiently.

Grimm takes a step back. I frown, as the wind passes between us like a reminder that this is the space we should have. I didn't like it nor did I like this coldness. I didn't like what I was feeling at all.

He says it again. "I'll be back. But if something happens—" He becomes serious like the man I saw in the building, the one who executed someone to be eaten by Hell's flames. "If you wish for my presence, you can scream the name you've given to me and I will appear before you."

But I don't—I tilt my head to the side. "What do you mean? I don't understand. What do you mean you'll show up?"

Grimm seems hesitant to answer but he has already said it. I wanted to understand. "You and I, we have a connection." He says.

My face hardens. Unbelievable. I thought he was being ser—

"You hold many names and titles but you're known as the Banshee and within the title, you're named the Harbinger of Death." My brows pinched together but Grimm continued. "When you are screaming or crying, you're calling for Death." He then says something my ears can't believe. "I can hear you—I can hear you calling for me."

My eyes widened. That couldn't be possible. No one can hear me. It doesn't matter how loud I am screaming or crying, no one ever hears me. It's only until I force them—until I make their ears bleed. But then—but then I remember the day I was almost killed. I screamed that day. I screamed and—Oh my—I screamed and he showed up. He appeared after I screamed.

I looked at Grimm in disbelief as I snap the branch in half. "You—You can hear me?" I muttered.

"I can hear you, raven."

The broken tree branch falls from my hand to the ground. He can hear me. He can hear me. He can hear me. How was this possible? But I didn't care about the how because all I could think about was Grimm hearing my screams, my cries, and in some strange way it made me feel relieved. It made me feel less alone. It made me feel less mad.

I took a step forward and looked up at him. "For how long have you been hearing me? Have you been watching me since before—

"No." He says. "No. I only saw you once before I officially met you. The day you killed Frank Higgins, but to be completely honest, I only ever heard your voice that day as well. Your hair covered your face and your back was turned from me." He repeats himself. "But I always heard you. I've always heard you, raven. Your screams have been haunting me for a long time."

I keep staring at him and search for any signs that he could be lying but there are none. No. No. No. I shouldn't believe him so easily. I take a step back. I shouldn't—I shouldn't—I took another step back from him and Grimm's eyes moved rapidly and crazed as if he were panicking.

He latches his hand on my arm, and pulls me toward him, holding me tightly as if I might slip from his fingers. "We could be oceans apart, in different hemispheres, or the depths of the unknown and the sound of your screams will dance their way into my ears to wherever I may be and I'll show myself before you."

My breath hitches. "No distance can separate the bond we share, nothing and no one can stop me from coming to you." He makes it sound like he is mine. A dangerous but thrilling thought.

My hair is then swept by the cold hair blowing into my face and I take this opportunity to press my hands against his chest and shove him away but even then, I knew he chose to let me go. I push my hair behind my ears as I turn to look at Grimm, at this distance I created.

All I could do was stare.

"You don't believe me." He says bluntly.

Grimm is bothered by it but I tell him, half-lying. "I don't."

He runs his fingers through his thick hair in frustration. He looks away as he stares off into the night. It's easier to believe he was Death than to believe he could hear me. I looked down at my peeking boots as I tried to grasp the concept around my head. I should believe him because he was Death, he was the only thing consistent and real in my life.

Believe him, my heart whispers.

Don't believe him, my mind spits loudly.

"I do not wish to part on bad terms." I lift my head to see him come toward me until he stops his steps at a good size distance. "I'll be leaving tonight with Hans and I won't be back until a week or so. But before I say goodbye, I want you to have something." He is going to come back and he chooses the word goodbye. I found it bothersome how easily that word escaped his lips.

Grimm pulls a velvet blue box from the inside of his pocket. My brows pinch together as his reddish lips begin to curl, and a chill straightens my spine. He opens the velvet box and reveals what's inside.

It was a crescent moon dipped in silver with intricate dimensional woven swirls. Then, there was the eight-pointed star, in the middle of it—a circular shape was washed in an iridescent pale blue and hung on the tip of the crescent moon. It displayed itself as an antique and yet it still held an enchanting luminous glow.

Grimm took it out of the box and as I got a closer look, I noticed a clasp underneath the ornament. It was a hair barrette. "This is one of the many jewels I've been gifted. Except I have no use for this one, and it's only been collecting dust as the years pass, but I thought maybe it could finally have an owner."

I shake my head. "Why—" Why are you doing this to me?

His stained red lips move. "I don't know much about gift giving as you recall the first time we met, I didn't necessarily give you a pretty birthday present. I would like to give you this gift instead, I know it will suit you."

Refugio gave me a pair of gold and silver hoop earrings for my fifteenth birthday. She said she had them shipped from Mexico and those earrings became the most precious gifts I've ever received until today. Not to say I don't love my earrings but this hair barrette was beautiful and delicate, I never owned anything quite like it.

And the earrings were gifted by Refugio and this hair barrette was gifted by Grimm. Refugio was not Grimm.

They say it's bad manners to turn down gifts, I think to myself—convincing myself. I think it will suit me too but I don't say that aloud.

Grimm takes a step forward and stretches his arm to put the hair barrette."Once you put it on me, you can't have it back." I stupidly say.

He is holding the crescent moon barrette midair as his eyes look down at me, glittering the same way the stars behind him did. "I always appreciate your boldness." Grimm closes the distance between us and my heart starts to beat violently, I press my nails into my palm hoping he doesn't hear it.

He gently touches the side of my forehead, faintly skimming down my face. He is so soft but still very cold. He has ruined the touch of warmth, the idea of sitting by the fire does nothing for me. "I hope you understand it's not my intention to make you believe you'll be more beautiful with this moon hair piece." I frowned, not understanding.

Grimm continues to speak, but his voice comes out hushed. "If anything, I intend to prove myself right."

My frown deepens. He pushes the crescent moon barrette into the right side of my hair until he secures it. He then whispers in my ear. "Tonight, you made the moon look lovelier."

I hope I don't look like someone who is feeling a thousand fluttering at once. What does one say to that? Grimm pulls back as he takes a glance at the silvery moon above us and moves his gaze purposefully to meet mine, his lips curved into a mischievous smile. I pretend to look annoyed, angry and irritated.

I needed to crush this feeling. "You shouldn't say things like that." I turn away from him.

"I'm afraid I'll continue to say things like that. You know, I can't deny my heart from you." I know his smile has gotten wider. Awful man.

And yet, I couldn't deny him either. I had to listen to that hateful heart of his, whether I liked it or not.