Painfully Obvious. [Fell Poth || REWRITTEN]

Chapter 2

"Palette, look!" Goth whined, pulling at the older's sleeve and pointing at a tiny creature in the sky. Palette chuckled but put down his phone momentarily to look at what his lover had pointed at.

"You're so cute, Gothy." And the other blushed, lilac spreading across his cheekbones like wildfire, giggling like a schoolboy in love.

This, was the beginning.

-

Soon the effect of Underfell wore down on a Goth, he became more quiet and reserved. Not losing his spark of happiness and observance but simply hiding it.

He began staying with Palette just for a few days, was the original plan. But days turned to weeks, weeks to years and soon Goth had lived with Palette for almost four years, dating for three.

They had been happy, he had been happy.

Until the more recent months, Palette became quieter, more blunt, cruel, and scary. He had come home more than once, silent and with a strange glint in his eye, his clothes soaked in the decaying smell of blood.

Goth passed it off as self defense at first, still sometimes did, until he realized he was just making excuses for him. He began feeling sick to his stomach once he realized how late Palette had been staying out, coming home with disheveled clothing and smelling of alcohol.

He tolerated it, scolding him once in a while only to wake up the next morning in their bed, undressed and in pain. Goth was a patient man, he gave Palette space but everyone has their borders.
—
Goth stared at the clock, fingers tapping and making their own rhythm as his anxiety grew. He was annoyed, very annoyed.

This was the fourth year Goth had lived with Palette, also, the second year he had missed their anniversary.

At first Goth thought he was late, but then again, was he really? Or was he out with someone else.

It made him uncomfortable to imagine Palette with someone else, the thought of cheating disgusted him and a pit of anger, frustration, anxiety, and a little something he couldn't name filled his stomach.

"Gooooothy!" The door slammed open, and Goth practically growled with anger. He stomped over, fists enclosed and shaking with rage.

His vision flashed red when he saw Palette wasn't alone, but had his arm around a girl's shoulders. Both clearly drunk, the girl seemed young and Goth guessed Palette had taken advantage of her.

"Palette!" He yelled, his voice reaching another octave higher near screaming and Palette raised an eyebrow.

"Someone's on their man period..." he muttered and the girl next to him giggled and Goth felt a headache building.

"What day is it." He said levelheadedly, despite practically boiling in anger.

Palette paused, "January 30?" He shrugged, as if saying whatever.

Wrong move.

Goth screamed, "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Palette froze, the girl shrinking back behind him. "Oh... shit."

He had experienced Goth mad not even a handful of times.

"It's our anniversary!" He continued, "This is the second time! I hate you! I knew you were out with another whore, all this time and I excused it!"

"So? I actually put up with your bullshit!" Palette rolled his eyes, exasperated. "You think the others would deal with you?!" He said, taking a swig from his bottle.

Goth was silent before continuing.

"Fine."

"See, baby-"

"Get out."