“Is this seat taken?”

  The question pulled the female ghost out of her reverie. Ever had his scythe in one hand, with his other on the back of the chair opposite Natalie. If she were alive, she might have said, 'sorry, I have a girlfriend.' But she wasn’t alive, nor did she have a girlfriend. She didn’t want another one.

  “No,” the woman replied. Ever waited a touch longer until she extended a hand towards the empty chair. “Since when did Death use cats to do his dirty work?”

  “Nika doesn’t work for me,” Ever said with a grin. He dispelled the scythe with a flick of his wrist. “He just does whatever he wants.”

  Her little, black dress had cinched up from crossing her legs. Natalie stood up to shimmy it back down. “So why did you come here?”

  “Just wondering if you wanted to talk.”

  Natalie gave a faint smile. “I mean, were you just floating through and just happened to come here?”

  “Oh right that's what you mean. I was on a date.” Natalie followed his gaze towards a table in the middle where an attractive brunette sat, absent-mindedly playing with the ghost cat.

  “She looks pretty. Do you like her?”

  “She is,” Ever said, “and I think so. I’ve just told her something important and she’s just… accepted it.”

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  Natalie continued to watch Zoe from afar. A long time ago, she was in the same position: confessing her feelings to someone that she was fond of for months. She had also accepted her close to straight away. That was the first warning flag, but at the time, Natalie was too overjoyed to see it being waved right in her face. How many nights had she come back to this same table, waiting for someone who wouldn’t come? Replaying hypothetical scenarios that couldn’t happen? She was over it. This reaper guy coming must've been a sign that it was finally time to let go.

  “Do you want to reap me now, or…”

  “Oh,” Ever said, slightly surprised. “Sure, if you’re ready but–”

  “I’m ready.”

  “OK then, well what are the last things you want to do before you go? Anything keeping you here?”

  “Hmmm, well now that you’re here, I wouldn’t mind dinner and a chat. That is, unless you don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

  “I don’t mind at all! I just had the squid ink pasta. Does that work for you?”

  Natalie smiled, the first time in years. She almost felt warmth in her chest… almost, but not quite.

  She watched the reaper conjure up his scythe again. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration before the scythe glowed, exploding into a tangle of linguine that lowered itself onto a ghostly plate that materialised in front of her. She picked up the translucent fork, wound the pasta up and put it in her mouth. Her eyes went wide; the pasta was delicious. She knew it wasn’t real, yet she could taste it and smell it. She slurped it up, momentarily forgetting Ever sitting across from her.

  “I’m happy for you, I really am,” Natalie said, putting the fork down, “but just… be careful when telling important things to people.”

  She started fading away.

  “Sometimes, there’s a reason they accept things right away – and it might not be good.”