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The lighter clicked, its faint flame flickering in the late night breeze. Shoko brought her hand up to shield the fire, but it got extinguished before she got to light her cigarette. With a sigh she leaned back against the concrete wall of the morgue behind her, looking up at the clouded sky.
“Well, fuck.”
The lighter clicked, clicked, clicked again, only emitting sparks. Stupid thing. Shoko had never been fit for the character of the dark brooding mortician, mysteriously lurking in the shadows and exhaling cigarette smoke. She smoked because she was stressed and was up late at night because the work just never ended. Be it the dead, dying or living, they kept her busy at all times, although the latter were by far the most exhausting.
The metal door creaked as it opened and Shoko took a step back from it, irritated. Nobody but her ever used this side exit, as it let into a dead end. She didn’t have too much time to think more about it as an all too familiar figure stepped out onto the gravelled ground. Shoko crossed her arms in an effort to hide her tension.
“Did something go wrong on the mission?”
You were back early. Being back early usually raised more deep red flags than running late, because it meant that someone hadn’t kept up for long. With usually more difficult missions assigned to sorcerers of rank initially too low for it, it happened regularly, as there simply weren’t enough people. But you were back. You always came back for her.
“It was alright for once. Nobody got injured. We were lucky.”
You came over, the gravel crunching under your shoes, yet Shoko was busy looking you up and down, making sure you were really free of any injuries. Some only ever showed after battle. Not that she could see anything under the crappy light of the only exterior lamp above. The moon didn’t feel like showing up from behind the clouds today apparently. Not very romantic.
“Good.” Shoko also wasn’t very romantic.
“Not smoking today?” You leaned against the wall next to her, shoulder to shoulder. Shoko fumbled around to store away the cigarette and lighter in the pockets of her lab coat with a sigh.
“Guess the universe was on my side. Lighter was out of gas just as you arrived.”
As much as Shoko was in dire need of a cigarette right now, she craved your presence even more.
“Isn’t that my side? Not wanting you to smoke?” You asked as you took her hand, which made Shoko arch even closer, resting her head against you.
“It saved me a shower.” Shoko didn’t want you to pretend not to care about the smell the cigarettes left on her. She knew you did, which was why she was on her ninth attempt to fully quit. So of course you had to catch her with her one desperate cigarette. At least she got to be close to you now.
Too much thinking. She closed her eyes. It had been a long day. A long week since you were gone, not once having enough time in between missions to return. Yet somehow you always came back, all to adept at lighting up the space where that dark, deep loneliness inside her chest usually resided. You were the answer to the question of who would heal the healer.
“How about a coffee instead?” Your hand-holding had turned into a gentle hug. Shoko opened her eyes again, giving you a genuine smile. She liked the idea. You made the best coffee, one cup was enough to get her through any given day or night.
“Sounds good to me.”
Although now you were there, Shoko didn’t even need the coffee.