(Archived) Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

A Brewtiful Beginning - Chapter 12

The alarm clock blared as Goth slammed his hand down upon the snooze button. Sliding the alarm into the off position, the monster sluggishly dragged his arm back under the covers. He opened his sockets, only for the early morning light to send searing pain cascading through his skull and force them shut once more.

Groaning to himself, he rolled onto his back while pressing the back of his fingers against his forehead. Sure enough, heat radiated from his skull. That combined with the unusual lethargy and itch in his throat drew him to the conclusion that he was sick.

"Why...?" he whined quietly, squinting his sockets open. He couldn't just stay home on such short notice, he needed to open for his morning shift in an hour.

Luckily, Palette had the day off, so Goth could leave earlier to accommodate what would likely be a slow walk to work without bothering his roommate. But first, he would need to get some medicine in him so he could get out the door and make it through his shift.

Slowly, Goth threw off his blanket and pushed himself off the mattress, grunting and shaking from the effort. Intending to reach a sitting position, a swift wave of dizziness sent him back onto the sheets in a winded heap instead. His bones felt like they were on fire as he struggled to try again, his skull barely even making it off the pillow before his body slumped back down in defeat.

"Comeon...," the skeleton gasped, willing his blurry vision to focus, "I... I can... ca... nnnh......"

---

The sound of scratching filled the otherwise silent room. Turning his skull toward the origin and cracking open his sockets, Goth's bleary eye light found Palette sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed with a sketchbook in his lap, focused intently on what was likely a project art piece.

Laboriously rolling onto his right side, a cough slipped out as something damp fell from his forehead onto the pillow next to him. The action caught the taller's attention, prompting him to set his sketchbook aside, "Hey, you're awake! Feeling any better?"

The noise echoed uncomfortably in Goth's skull, eliciting an airy groan as he clenched his sockets shut.

"Sorry, sorry," Palette apologized, luckily at a much lower volume this time as he got up and retrieved the damp hand towel from the pillow, "Guess the answer's not good."

"What're you doing here?" Goth rasped, shifting his eye light to his clock, "What ti-...!"

"Woah!" Palette gasped, dropping the cloth and diving forward to catch Goth as he nearly fell off the bed in a sudden panic, "Calm down! What's wrong, are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay I'm five hours late!" the smaller wheezed frantically, struggling to reorient himself using Palette's arms for support, "Why didn't you wake me Mona's probably furious that I never showed up to open-"

"Goth, breathe!" Palette loudly interrupted, his volume managing to impede the smaller long enough for him to explain, "I already called Mona and told her you couldn't make it."

Goth went limp in their grip, coughing and heaving from exertion while staring up at his companion, "Wha... when?"

"About half an hour before morning shift," Palette answered, settling the smaller back into bed and pulling the sheets over him, "I never heard you say bye or walk out the door, so I came to check on you. I found you in bed with your blanket thrown off. I tried to wake you thinking you overslept, realized you had a fever, and called Mona to tell her you weren't feeling good."

"What'd she say?" Goth breathed, struggling to focus past the pulse he could feel thumping through his body.

Palette picked up and soaked the hand towel in a bowl set on his nightstand, wringing it out to place it gently against Goth's forehead, "She asked me to make sure you got plenty of rest and food and to call her if you got worse. She also told me to tell you that you have today and tomorrow off and that she'll tan our hides if either of us shows up."

"... Our...?" the smaller groaned, squinting as his vision went fuzzy.

His roommate chuckled nervously, "Yeah, I offered to fill in for you and ... ...ot mad. She sa... I shou... ...ry abo... ... ...are of ... ...ead, ...e ... ...le th... ...t ... ...fe."

"Wh... what?" Goth mumbled, confused as sounds began cutting in and out. He watched Palette's mouth move, but couldn't make out any of the words through the dark haze clouding his sight. His companion approached him, wearing what might have been a concerned expression as everything faded out.

***

Word Count: 780