Chioniphobia

Fruit

Pitch had never really cared for eating. It wasn't necessary for immortals like him, so why bother? Grim took a dim view of this logic. She enjoyed sampling different cuisines whenever possible and encouraged the Nightmare King to do so as well.

Over the years, through the Reaper's intervention, Pitch had tried enough foods to at least form some preferences. Spicy foods, in his opinion, could burn in the hellfire they were apparently cooked in. Strong flavors in general tended to put him off, although he did have a certain fondness for coffee free of sugar and milk (unlike his more food-inclined companion, who would rather fill a mug with sugar and creamer, add a few drops of 'joe,' and call it a day). Heavier foods weren't to his liking either. Grim would tear into a steak like a starving lion, but Pitch had only ever tried bites of foodstuffs such as pasta and cheesecake. Sweets tended to leave a sickly taste in his mouth, and sour things caused him to make faces that Grim found very amusing. Really, the only things the Boogeyman would eat without any encouragement from Grim were seafood, vegetables, and fruit, and only a few types of each at that.

If Grim had pressed him to select his favorite fruit, Pitch supposed he'd pick apples. They could be a bit too sour or sweet for his taste, but generally apples were the least offensive of fruits to his sensibilities. He also liked the crunch they made when bitten into. It reminded him of the wet snap of a breaking bone, but crisper.

He was eating an apple when he heard a commotion coming from above the caverns.

"Are you kidding me, Snowflake? If I can pick between this and another blizzard, I'll take the blizzard."

"Well, if you're offering..."

"Rack off."

"Bah! Is not bad as all that. He knows her well, yes?"

"..."

"See? Sandy agrees it's a bad idea."

"Well, North agrees with me, so we need someone to break the tie. Where's Baby Tooth?"

"Ah, that's not a good idea, Frostbite. Grimace and the fairies don't get on any better than she and Tooth."

"Natasha would say asking Pitch is good idea."

There was another silence, too drawn-out to be just Sandman interjecting. It was broken by Frost.

"Who's Natasha?"

"Never mind that," the rabbit's voice cut in brusquely. "Look, he and Grim know each other, but it's not like they're friends."

"Really? Because the way she said it, it sounded like he was her only friend."

"You sure about that, mate? Grim's not exactly Miss Congeniality, but she's had friends before."

"Maybe she was meaning currently? Rainbow girl is passed on, and Natasha...is not here right now."

"What am I, chopped liver? I'm her bloody friend, too."

"Wait, didn't she try to strangle you?"

"..."

"That's kind of a weird way to show affection, Sandy."

"We had a bit of a falling out. But we're still chums."

"Must've been some falling out."

"We are getting off track. Are we going to go find Pitch or nyet?"

"No need for that," Pitch announced, looking up at the Guardians from the caverns. "I've already found you, after all."

The cavern's new entrance was the mouth of a cave as opposed to a hole under some broken bedframe, so Pitch had a clear view of all their reactions to his presence. The rabbit tensed, hopping (heh, hopping) into a fighting stance. Sandy pulled out his whips, North drew his swords, and Jack held his staff with the hooked end mere inches from Pitch's face.