Painfully Obvious. [Fell Poth || REWRITTEN]

Chapter 17

"Palette," Goth called, a waver finding its way into his voice. "Look."

The land was barren. The smell of blood rested thick in the air, and Goth felt the faint rush of nausea in the back of his throat. Between him, Palette, and the portal they had came in, was a war ground.

The sun was still shining cheerfully, but it was eerily quiet. Smoke rose from a destroyed rooftop and Goth turned away, images of innocents living under a roof, parents shielding children from whatever monstrosity came.

Palette's eyes flashed with regret, the blood that ran through the streets was not of murderous creatures struggling to survive. But of innocents, their last struggles still marking the Earth.

If only they had been faster.

"Let's go," Palette said, turning away though Goth caught a glimpse of his eyes, burning with unspoken rage.

-

The way they travelled through universes depended on where the two of them could sense a disruption in power, and their next stop was unexpected.

Goth didn't know which universe they had landed in, but everything was quietly serene and the little town that seemed to be the center of life was busy and full of life.

When they journeyed closer to investigate, however, things seemed to be more out of control.

The serene quiet Goth had found enjoyable and relaxing quickly became unsettling, and the busy atmosphere the two had sensed was now more of a sense of urgency.

"Palette," Goth beckoned, gesturing at a hotel that they could spend the night in as Goth's transportation magic recovered and they could sleep their troubles away.

By the time the two had gotten into bed, Goth didn't hesitate to lean in to kiss his lover on the lips.

"Palette, if we don't make it out of this," Goth began, as Palette shushed him.

"We'll get out of this, we always do."

"But if we don't." Goth pressed his forehead closer to Palette's, "I want you to know I love you, and I'm sorry we don't have more time. But when we go home, I'll make it up to you."

Palette didn't respond, pressing his body into Goths. As if he could hold onto him tight enough to prevent him from ever letting go, to never lose Goth.

"I love you," Palette finally whispered.

"I love you too."