Secret Admirer 3
The next morning the fiery redhead opened up his green/yellow eyes and groaned. He vaguely smiled though, it was Friday, finally. Shinigami had a full-time yes, but they also took shifts.
The shifts acted like this, there were day shifts, and night shifts, each consisting of an equal 12 hours. Monday to Friday was the usual operating period for full-fledged shinigami. On the weekends as the normal reapers rested the students would take over, it would allow them to get experience in the field without interrupting their weekly studies.
Grell was sure that Ronald would have another party planned, but he wasn't sure he would attend it this time. He climbed out of bed, stretching a bit before he froze, remembering the night before. He stole to the door, opening it slowly and carefully, making sure no one saw him without him looking his best.
He smiled to see a new note, a crimson one this time. He picked it up carefully before William appeared fuming. Grell screamed an
Secret Admirer 2Early the next morning, the raven was seen at his usual spot, having arrived there and sat down at his usual time precisely. Everything in his office was aligned precisely; even the paperwork he had to shuffle through was in neat stacks on the corner of his desk. He sat back in quiet and non-expressed satisfaction, ready to start the day. Without any interruptions he would be able to finish by the end of the day.
"W-ill-iam~" came a painfully familiar flamboyant voice as said distraction walked into the room. William's eye twitched as he saw Mr. Sutcliff's attire. Grell walked in and casually sat across his desk, his office skirt riding up over his nylons as he wore red stereotypical secretary-like attire.
As Grell crossed his legs the skirt that ended just above his knees rode up even more and one red heel moved into William's line of sight. "Good morning William~" He sang, giving a toothy smile tucking a loose strand of crimson hair behind his e
Secret Admirer 1The darkened room smelled faintly of cinnamon, the scarlet walls not quite assisting with the lack of light. The redhead sighed, propped up with about a dozen pillows across the whole top length of his feathery soft bed. Everything in the small room screamed of femininity, the different shades of red reflecting different levels of passion.
The reaper that sat propped up on the bed was absentmindedly fixing up his toenails, applying paint over the old and mostly chipped away coat. It was nights like this he hated, the middle of the week, today the paperwork was never ending and tomorrow it would be the same. He would have to slowly pick through it until it was done, but as each day dragged on that seemingly simple task was getting harder.
Whoever came up with "The Tortoise and the Hare" and coined the moral "slow and steady wins the race" had never been buried up to his ass in paperwork. Not only that but he didn't have to sit in a plain white office room all day where the on