*I owe you
“I owe you… don’t I?”
It’s that skeleton – hat monster that saved you a little over a month ago. He’s inside your house, standing as if he belonged. You’ve only just come home and yet here he is, waiting for you.
“you do.” He’s grinning, a wide smile seemingly carved upon his skull. There’s a lot of things you want to know – how he found you, why he saved you, and why the hell is there a vase of flowers on your table?
“Want anything to drink?” You set your keys down, finally taking the initiative to break your current impromptu staring contest. Closing the front door behind you, you walk past him into the kitchen.
You nearly scream however, because he’s suddenly sitting on your kitchen counters, rolling the sleeves f his dress shirt. His blazer is now folded neatly beside him.
But how?
Magic, more than likely.
“sorry didn’t mean to rattle ya.”
Well, that’s one way to lighten the mood. Paired with the cocky, shit-eating grin he’s giving you, and you manage to let out a very (un)dignified snort in response.
“Never met a skeleton with a sense of humor before.” You’re joking, mainly because he’s the only skeleton monster you’ve ever met.
“better get used to it.” He fucking winks. Somehow. Magic.
“S’pose so.” You ass, opening your fridge to reach inside. You don’t really mind being indebted to a member of the monster mafia – despite being mafia, however, they were usually good people, or so you’ve heard.
Right as you bend over to grab a soda, however, a skeletal hand finds the small of your back. You pause, the worn texture of his somehow worn bones pressing against exposed skin.
His touch is firm, and you can feel him lean over you – he’s breathing against you. How?
(magic)
The air is tense, and the way he presses against you leaves little to the imagination when it comes to what he’s here for.
“i hope you’re ready to make good on your debt.”