“You know, this is really relaxing, Anon!”

The room once filled with silence is shattered when Ollie speaks, the woman happily chattering away as you slide the needle in and out of her forearm stump. The wound had long since stopped bleeding – as it turns out, zombies need some blood – but the dead flesh has withered greatly. At some point soon, she’ll need to go shopping for another arm. You stifle a sigh and sit the needle between your lips, mentally sorting through your inventory of thread.

“You already done~?”

“You can see that I’m not.” You respond in exasperation, getting an airy giggle out of the undead woman. Thankfully, she had only come in with two lost limbs this time, and you’ve already fixed up her leg. This has given her the ability to crack jokes and idly scroll through her phone, even occasionally showing you a picture while you’re in the middle of your work. “Quit distracting me, or this’ll take longer than it needs to.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I like coming here. There aren’t many people who would, uh…well, stitch up a corpse!”

“You’re not a corpse.” You thread the needle and resume stitching her stumps together, keeping the wrist locked against your arm so it doesn’t slip and ruin your work.

“Well, if you wanna get technical—”

“Corpses don’t talk, idiot.” You lightly pinch the part of her arm that she still can feel, causing her to let out a small grunt of pain. With the look those mismatched eyes are giving you, you can tell that she’s trying to resist the urge to knee you in the stomach. Thankfully, she doesn’t, and instead settles for a dramatic sigh.

“Sometimes, I truly wonder what I pay you for…”

“You don’t pay me.” You snap off the thread and give her wrist a tug, ensuring that your sewing doesn’t rip. Once you’ve decided that it’s secure, you trail your fingertips from her shoulder to wrist, making sure that the skin texture feels the same. Ollie isn’t picky about her limbs, but as a professional service, you like to make sure there aren’t any oddities that could cause her discomfort.

She gasps at the sudden motion, and by the time you’ve reached her wrist, a small flush has appeared on her grey cheeks.

“Man, it somehow feels weirder this time…” She looks away from you for a moment, and you need to take a moment to stop your own embarrassment.

Ollie is referring to earlier in this appointment, where you had done the same but from her waist to her kneecap. Normally she takes that check in stride, but this time, she went all quiet. Although you deal in corpses for a living and give her shit for talking during visits, you’d wished she said something to save you from the heat on your face.

“Putting that aside…you should be good now. I’d recommend that you put in an order for a new arm, because that one’s about to give out on you. Other than that, though, you don’t need any more fixing or adjustments. Lucky you, huh?”

“You’re not gonna, uh, charge my core?” She looks down at her chest – behind her left breast isn’t a beating heart, but a magical mechanism attached to a long dead one.

“You still have enough magic in you to keep you ticking. Plus, don’t ask men about why they aren’t touching your chest – you’ll give them the wrong idea.”

“H-Hey!”

Ollie swats at your shoulder, but you share a small laugh in the dim light of your office. This has become a common occurrence between the two of you, ever since you found her in pieces outside of town a year ago. After that, she promised that she’d come by to get fixed up, and to pay off the debt she felt she owed you for going out of your way to save her.

You still haven’t let her pay you back. You haven’t charged her, either.

“So, are you gonna let me pay you back, today? I looked outside of your shop – I know your rates, and I can pay you ten times the asking price!”

“I don’t need your money, Ollie.” You give her a calm smile as you slot your needle inside of its kit. “Play a round of chess with me when you next come in and we’ll call it even.”

“Urgh…you always say that, Anon…”

“I’m not desperate enough for cash to fleece the local monster hunter for her reward money. I’ll say it again, you’re fine.”

“Come on, man! Let me do something for you, at least. Other than chess! Do you want a cake? I can go grab one really quick!”

“I won’t take money or goods from you, Ollie.”

The pair of you enter a long stare down, before you see a mischievous look appear in Ollie’s eyes. You open your mouth to rebuke her once more, but she’s quick to the punch. She surges forward and puts her cold hand over your mouth, firmly sealing your lips shut.

*Common sense tells you that corpses stink, but why does Ollie always seem to smell so good? *

“Alright, can I give you something else, then? A token of appreciation? Nod yes or no.”

You blink twice, and out of curiosity more than anything, you end up nodding.

“Cool!”

In the next motion, she rips her hand away from your mouth and replaces it with her lips.

You freeze instantly. The first thing that hits you is the fact they’re cool against yours, just like her hands as they come up to cup your face. A sweet smell washes over you again, and this time you can put a name to it – grave lilies. The kiss goes on for a few more seconds, and by the time she pulls away, your stoic façade has cracked in favor of a luminescent blush.

“Huh, I didn’t know you could make that kind of face, Anon. I guess I’ll have to see if I can make you do it again~!”

Without another word, she bolts towards the door with a weak wave, darting out into the darkness of the street and leaving the door to slam shut behind her.