(Archived) Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

Heat of the Moment - Alternate Ending (Decision)

^w^

***

Goth was woken by the sound of the doorbell. He blinked muzzily, taking in the familiar sight of the living room as he sat up from his position on the couch. He looked toward the clock on the wall, barely making out the hands in the dim evening light. It had only been maybe an hour since he got home.

Must have fallen asleep...

The doorbell went off again, pulling him back to the reason he was awake. Pushing off of the couch, he clicked on a light, yawning and stretching as he tromped over to the door. Grabbing the handle, he opened it to find his 'boyfriend', Palette, waiting on the other side.

"Hey Goth, I have something I need to talk to you ab-," Palette began, only to switch gears at the small skeleton's appearance, "... uh, are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"Your clothes are messed up and you look like you're crying," Palette supplied.

"Oh! Yeah, I'm fine," Goth adjusted his cloak and rubbed the sleep from his face as he explained, "I crashed on the couch after getting home from work and I just woke up."

"Rough day reaping?" Palette asked, his mouth pulling into a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah," the small skeleton sighed, "A coastal town got hit by a hurricane. Dad needed extra hands to handle the sudden volume, and even then there wasn't much time for a break between collections."

"Oh, that does sound rough...," Palette rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his starry eye lights toward the ground, "I should probably come back another time and let you rest..."

The hooded monster grabbed his hand before he could turn to leave, "No, you can stay. I'm already awake, and I could use the friendly company since mom's visiting relatives and I doubt Uncle Pap will let dad get out of documenting a reaping this largescale, so he's probably going to be stuck filling out paperwork until later tonight... now there's something to look forward to when I get older."

The taller skeleton chuckled as Goth rolled his eye light, accepting the invitation inside and finding a seat on the couch. Palette laid his right hand against his pants pocket as the smaller closed the door, "So what did you want to talk about? Usually, you text me if you have a question."

Palette didn't answer, his eye lights darting around, his sockets furrowing as if he were trying to figure out his words. Goth sat next to his companion, quirking a socket at his odd behavior.

Palette's always been pretty open about expressing himself. Why would he be so quiet now?

Goth probed softly, "Is everything alright? Did something happen?" He received a nod, but no verbal response.

A guessing game? That's new.

"Alright... something you need to tell me in person, but are having a hard time talking about...," Goth muttered, crossing his arms while tossing around the multitude of possibilities. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for his thoughts to take a negative turn.

Did I do something? Is he mad at me? He doesn't look mad... he looks conflicted. Nervous. What would he need to say to me that-

... wait... is he breaking up with me? That's it, isn't it? After four years together, he's finally figured out he doesn't love me. That's why he's suddenly so quiet. He doesn't know how to say it without hurting my feelings...

A hand on his arm startled him. Palette was watching him with a quizzical expression, "Goth? Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're crying again."