Death quietly made his way though the cemetery, pausing to look at two gravestones.

"They were in love, you know," someone behind him speaks up, and he sighs before turning around.

"Amour," he said softly. The blond bristled at the use of her true name.

"Don't call me that," she said evenly. "Mortem." The hooded figure froze momentarily, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. From the smirk the embodiment of Love wore, however, he knew that she knew that she'd gotten under his skin, for a moment at least.

"Why did you kill them?" She asked suddenly, smile fading. "They were so young and happy-"

"I do not decide when they die," Death interupted her. "Nor how they die, or why they die. I simply come along to guide their spirits and make sure they don't get stuck in their physical bodies." Amour stiffened.

"You still kill them," she said quietly. "You suck the life out of them- I've seen you do it!" Mortem sighed.

It was useless arguing with the spirit of Love, he decided. Much like what she represented, Amour was blind, both mentally and physically. She saw what she wanted to see, not what was really there.

"Do you feel anything?" Love's indignant tone cut through his inner thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "Any sort of emotion? Sadness, remorse, regret-"

"Amour," the older spirit cut through the younger's tirade. He gave her a look. "We've been through this. No, I do not feel anything for the humans, animals, plants- for anything. I do what must be done."

The two were silent for a moment, then Amour spoke up.

"You're a monster," she whispered. Death shrugged, unfazed.

"So are you," he commented. The feathers in Love's wings bristled.

"Don't you dare compare me to yourself-"

"Why shouldn't I?" Mortem asked. "You've seen firsthand what love can do to a person." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you really above being a monster? Or do you just delude yourself so you can sleep at night?"

The words held no accusation, just simple curiosity.

Amour breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "The point is, you've killed them. They were only young, and in love-" she cut herself off, and glared at him with foggy, glazed-over eyes. "I will never forgive you." Death sighed.

"Do you know what would happen if Death did not exist?" He asked her quietly. "Old Age, Plague, and Heartache would take the reins. Their spirits would not move on, they'd be stuck in their mortal bodies for all of eternity, forever fighting against numerous sicknesses and such. The Earth would overcrowd, plagues would rule- do you really want that?" Again, his tone held no accusation, just curiousity, with a hint of demand, perhaps.

"I-I," Love seemed to be struggling for words. Death raised an eyebrow.

Amour closed her eyes, a single tear slipping through.

"Why?" She whispered. "Why?" Death sighed.

"It is the way of the world we call home, mon cheri," he said.

Love gave him one last pitful, miserable glare, and disappeared, leaving Death alone in the graveyard, once more.

(translations:
mortem: death (latin)
amour: love (french)