You weren't sure how you wanted to go about this. You figured you'd been delaying the date you promised her for long enough, but you had no idea how to go about getting her to go for it. Eventually, you swallowed your fear and figured that winging it was probably your best bet, as it is in most endeavors.
Just something about instinct, you know? Yeah, you know.
Before you leave, you grab the flowers you had gotten for her and straighten up your suit. You wanted to look good, dammit, not like a scarecrow in his older brother's hand-me-downs. Whatever, you looked good enough, so you got on the road. You didn't want to give her warning, though. You wanted to whisk her away for an evening of romance.
You show up an hour or so before her flower shop ought to be closing down, only to find the sign on the door flipped around and a lock barring your entry. A few loud knocks without an answer later, and you find yourself a bit worried.
In an attempt to ease your mind, you pull out your cellphone and give her a ring. No answer. Trying again, she still doesn't answer. You buzz the doorbell a couple of times, yet again without answer, before your mind starts thinking of the worst possible outcomes.
What if someone broke in? No, there'd be signs of entry. Or maybe they came inside and took advantage of her laxed guard by pretending to be a customer, then locked the door and closed up shop so that no one would realize anything was going on. You don't bother addressing the fact that she's an all powerful Goddess of Space, that's not exactly relevant to your worrying. It just isn't like her to close her shop this early, without leaving some kind of note.
Sure of the current situation being awful, you grit your teeth and kick in the glass of the storefront. Crawling through the broken window, you curse as the glass cuts your suit. You could care less that it grazed your cheek, that'll heal on its own, but you wanted to look good for her! Not important, you remind yourself, she's in trouble.
You quickly discount the possibility of the intruder being in the front of the shop, given the exposure to the streets. Nothing looks like there's been much of a struggle, but if this theoretical god smiting intruder managed to get the drop on her, there wouldn't need to be much of one anyway.
It doesn't take you long to reach her bedroom, where you see her laying there, asleep on her bed, pristine and unharmed. You almost breathe a sigh of relief before you realize that it doesn't make sense.
Your keen eyes quickly notice that she isn't breathing. Additionally, you see an empty bottle of medication on its side and come to a more accurate realization.
Immediately, you're at her side, doing your best to wake her up. You call her name, shake her, even attempt CPR. It isn't long before you're in tears, shouting her name as you try to wake her up.
