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In all of Phil’s long years of immortality, he never imagined the world would slow down like it did when he was mortal. In an immortal’s perspective, a human’s life is as short as a blink. Time passes by, nations rise to the sky onto to crumple to the ground. Forests grow large then burn to ash. The world is constantly changing while they do not.
He never imagined he would grow attached to a thing with an expiration date.
Or more like,
A who.
He was content for a long time since he married Hell’s Queen, who gifted him immortality and the title Angel of Death.
He flew day and night. Fighting in wars, helping kingdoms build into mightiness only to fell them later on. He made friends, with the other gods. The Blood God, the Green God, the Storm Spirit, name one and he’s met them.
He never imagined he would befriend a mortal. Much less two. Who eventually, became like family.
But of course.
Everything not dead must die at some point in time.
“Tommy..?”
Phil choked back a sob. He barely recognized him anymore. Blonde hair muddled with ash and dirt, sky-blue eyes slowly losing their light, red shirt ripped and torn. All products of war.
“H-hey Phil..”
Tommy’s lips quivered into a small smile. He tried sitting up, only to fall back down, his body racking with coughs. His lips were dusted in blood, more coating his body.
Phil dropped to his knees. Despair twisted his mind, acceptance of the truth impossible.
“Where are your worst wounds?!”
Phil ripped off a green strip of his jacket, trying to pinpoint which location on Tommy he should wrap first. There were so many..
“Phil-”
“Don’t speak Tommy! Save your energy!”
“Stop Phil-”
“No!”
A hand wiped off the tears trickling down his ageless face. He didn’t even realize he was crying.
“T-tommy?”
Phil held Tommy palm to his cheek, looking down at his once-golden boy.
“It’s useless Phil. We both know th-”
Cough. Wheeze. Inhale. Exhale.
“We both know it’s over.”
“Stop. I refuse.”
A hollow chuckle echoed from Tommy’s lips.
Silence overtook the noise. Both taking in what was happening.
“Tommy..”
“Yeah Phil?”
Tommy looked up to Phil, the bright blue in his eyes dull.
“I love you.”
A smile. Not fake, not sad, a real smile. The first one in years.
“Thank you Dadza.”
Tommy’s hand fell limp into Phil’s. The tears that once trickled now streamed down the grieving man’s face.
And that.
That.
Is what an immortal gets for loving death.