The last funeral of the day makes me nervous. Just waiting for the families and friends of the departed to leave the site, hugging each other in their arms. It's a sad moment for them, but for me... well, it's a moment of anticipation.

Pastor comes and pats my shoulder, letting me know that I can begin filling in the grave. It's a soft, but firm touch he gives every time he passes me. Such an old pony, but his faith keeps him from letting go from the mortal plane just yet. I give my ceremonial nod to him and lift the shovel with my magic, slowly digging into the upturned earth and placing it into the hole.

I keep myself from looking at the children that stare at my pale skin and thin form. It always hurts to hear their words of 'freak' or 'ghost'. What's even worse, is that I have to hear the words of parents try to convince them that I'm just as normal as any other pony.

But, this is the last funeral of the day. Hurtful words and long stares never deter me from the image of the mare that waits for me. I stop digging to wipe sweat from my eyes and lean against the shovel. My eyes shut to keep the visage of her in my head just a moment longer. So sweet, so gentle, so kind.

Opening my eyes again, I finish the job, flattening the dirt. I remove the paddy cap from my head and place it to my heart, saying a quiet prayer to this unknown pony.

"The righteous perish, and no one ponders it in his heart; devout ponies are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death."

I place the cap on my head and leave the site, shovel over my back. My home is not far from the graveyard, being a simple shack at the farthest end of the property. Like all homes, it could look better.

New siding, new door, new roof... yeah, it needs a lot of work. It's mine, however, so why should I complain? Just like the girl that awaits me inside.

I enter and place my shovel to the side, before looking at her and opening my arms into a hug and take her in it. She smells so wonderful and yet, so disgusting. Such an enigma that makes me long for her more.

"I've missed you, my little Patchwork," I coo in her drooping ear. She seems so tired, her face just hanging in place. I know how to cheer her up, because I had the right gift for her sorrowful state. "I have some fresh linens and string for you," I chuckle, revealing my basket and placing it at her hooves.

She doesn't react, but I know she's leaping for joy inside.

"Come on," I encourage, "I'll help you with your project tonight."

She lets me continue on my offer as I begin to place the linen on her and produce a needle. I smile and begin to work, sewing into the skin of the coat that is on her. "This color looks good on you, doesn't it?" I ask politely, not wanting to offend her if she disagrees.

She doesn't.

I continue to work, finally finishing the work as I cut the string after knotting it. The patch looks so nice on her, and adds another layer of complexity to her already growing layers.

I look into her blue and green eyes and kiss her. She offers no resistance and lets me continue on before I pull back and grin.

"You know," I whisper to her, bringing my teeth to her perked ear of interest. "We haven't danced for a week."

We clasp hooves together and begin to dance around the small confinement of the shed. By Celestia, it's magic every time we move together. She knows me just as much as I know her. I want to bring her to the bed and just ravage her, but I'm too gentlemanly to just act on instinct. I only act when she consents.

We finally stop and I move to the stove, going to cook for us. I leave her to continue her sewing and begin to boil the water in the kettle for a nice bit of soup. I occasionally glance back at her and remark at the simplistic nature she exudes, despite the complex sewing that she does.

With the water heated just right, I begin to drop the meat and vegetables inside. A few stirs of the ladle mixes them all and makes the steam rise up quickly. The look and smell seems... wrong. I watch the water as it boils everything and blink my eyes a few times before realizing that I had yet to add the spices. Chuckling at the simple mistake, I move past my girlfriend, giving me a chance to run a hoof across her mane.

I shiver in self-satisfaction, taking in the feeling of every bump, every silken strand, every curl. I see no reaction by her, but I can picture the smile that crosses her face as she continues to sew herself together.

Taking a few spices, I move in front of her and accent the movement of my body to appease her own needs. After all, in every relationship there has to be a give and take.

Splashing in the spices, I give the water another stir and extinguish the fire. I'll let the soup cool down a fair bit before we eat.

Setting up the table and stools, I keep looking to her, still busily trying to cover any red cuts that have appeared. She works so hard, and I love it. Should this be the day I ask her to marry? No. She's adamant to follow the law and will not let me show her to the world. Her very existence is an affront to the law, and she's not willing to break any rules.

Not yet, anyway.

With the soup ready, I set the bowls on the table and pour some for each of us. She finishes her final patch and moves to the table. She looks so much better than when I had entered home. Candlelight and the incense that now burns adds so much more to the night.

I eat the soup as she sits, shyly staring at me as she slumps forward. I smirk and ask, "Shall I feed my missus?"

She doesn't respond, but continues to coyly stare, almost daring me to follow through with my challenge.

Setting my own spoon down, I fill her spoon up with the broth and beef. Putting the spoon to her plumped lips, she keeps it shut. I can hear her stifled giggles in my ear, and it makes me giggle just as well. I set the spoon back into the bowl and lift my hooves up in defeat.

She picks herself up from the table and moves to the bed, prompting me to ready myself for sleep.

I move to the mirror and check the chin for any stray hairs and promptly shave them off with a knife. A simple brush of the teeth with his toothbrush, a simple comb through his hair. I was truly plain and uninteresting as I continued to stare at myself.

Then, I see her posed for me on the bed, waiting for me to finish up. For me.

I move away from the mirror and make myself comfortable on the bed with her cold body right beside me. I kiss the side of her face and hug her close before shutting my eyes.

I love every square of my Patchwork.

Author's Note

If you want to listen to the song, here's a link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7WmGQ_VemU