Painfully Obvious. [Fell Poth || REWRITTEN]

Chapter 6

EDITED
cos i meant mortals but ey im not a very organized author lmao
Khloe laughed at his confusion, mortals, or anything with a soul were easy to toy with. They weren't to be underestimated, but their emotions were a disadvantage.

To be honest, she didn't know anything about Palette. But freaking him out was hilarious, to put him through the same confusion and pain Goth had endured was her main goal.

Nobody deserved to be cheated on, and Goth was one corrupted by the world around him. She wouldn't let it happen again.

—

"Gothy!"

Goth woke up with a start at the sound of his name being called, he slid off of the couch and over to the door. Wiping his eyes as he opened the door to be met with badly made cupcakes and a very, very happy Cray.

"Not now Cray Cray," he sighed, his headache multiplying the longer he stood there. Cray pouted, pushing the cupcakes into his face.

"You know you want them!"

"I really do-"

"Yes. You. Do!" Cray growled, shoving them so close to Goth's face that he nearly fell over.

"Ok, ok! Goddamn..." Goth cursed as he took a cupcake from the platter, cursing himself for taking a cupcake as it tasted horrible.

But the cupcakes reminded him of his anniversary with Palette, his first one, he had made cupcakes.

He sighed, and Cray noticed the aura begin to gloom. "Again?" He asked and Goth nodded, opening the door wider to allow the taller in.

Cray quickly entered the house, closing and locking the door behind him only to join Goth on the couch, wrapping the smaller in a blanket and giving him a hug.

"What do you wanna watch?" Cray questioned, nudging Goth to make sure he was paying attention.

"I don't know... whatever's on..." He muttered as he began to close his eyes, sleep overwhelming him.

Cray sighed as he patted his friend on the back, turning on the TV only for it to play Power Puff Girls.

—

Palette stumbled drunkenly, his collar loose around his neck. Showing off his jaw and collar bone, he had gotten a few whistles and stares from a couple guys and ladies but had ignored them all.

He groaned in disgust as he felt the booze he had stocked up on rising up in his throat.

He wanted Goth.

Warm, sweet, Goth.

And then he remembered, what he had done, the tears that had been streaming down Goth's rosy little cheeks. He cursed inwardly as he found himself on the road back to the house they had once shared.

He was not going back there.

He, Palette Drink, did not crawl back, they crawled to him.

Forgot about this book sksokfkkf