Palette x Cray (Short Stories)

Swirling Milkshakes •2•

1

    Golden rays shot through Palette's closed window, an orange tint added with the smooth curtains that carefully covered the clean glass plains, hidden behind it. The small amount of light struck Palette's sleeping figure, washing over his closed eyes. He breathes in deeply, rolling to his side. He flops his arm around on the bedside dresser, searching for something. Once found, he raises his head slowly, squinting his eyes to reveal his phone.

    8:05 AM

    The light burned his eyes, demanding them to be shut. He roughly sets it down, falling face-first into his unfluffed pillow, grunting. After two to three minutes of unconsciously blinking at the ceiling, he rolls out of bed. Palette sluggishly walked down the stairs, running a hand lazily on the handrailing. The tango beams of light glittered throughout the house, soaking into Palette's exposed bone. He yawed, walking into the kitchen. He could hear the rustic chimes clinking off of each other, creating a pure, morning melody.

    He stretched his arm high, before grabbing a box of cereal. He heard as the small sugar bits bounced off the beautiful pottery. Once he finished pouring the milk, he sat down at the empty table, staring out the window. Bits of residue were strewn about it, sparkling in the warm, morning sun. Finishing his breakfast, he set the empty bowl in the sink, and with a bit more leap in his step, he hurried up the stairs.

    He took a quick shower, nothing much crossing his mind. With a towel wrapped around him, he wandered through his closet, picking out a collar shirt that was a light tan, with a dark red stripe crossing the middle, the word 'Coca Cola' landing the middle. He grabbed turquoise shorts, along with high, white socks, accompanied with two stripes. One red, and one blue.

    Checking the time again, he noticed it was 8:50 AM. Dang, time goes slow, he thought. He really didn't have anything planned for the day. Typically, he'd see if Goth was available. But Goth usually got up late. Plus, he really didn't have the courage to face him due to recent circumstances. He thought of simply playing by himself on the trampoline. But soon frowned, thinking how boring and lonely it would be. After a while of pondering, he found himself running up and down the hall, and seeing how far he could slide on his socks. He smiled to himself, enjoying the pointless entertainment.

    "Palette.. Querido Dios, can't you be any louder?"

    Palette spun around, surprised by the sudden sound.

    "Mom!" His heart raced. He then exhaled, feeling relieved. "Ah jeez, You scared me! Sorry mom, just reeeally bored."

    Angexci blinked. "I could tell."

    She started towards the stairway, beginning down the steps slowly, as her oversized robe drug behind her.

    "Mom, wait! I wanna do something!" Palette whined, trailing her.

    "You always want to do something." She mumbled, heading to the coffee maker.

    He slid down the wooden steps with his socks, almost falling. "Mooom!"

    "Palette! I don't know. Go paint or something." She grudged, putting in a new coffee filter, and throwing away the last in a nearby bin.

    His brows furrowed. "I don't feel like painting."

    "Then go run around the neighborhood a couple of times; Go throw a basketball; Go to the park. I don't know, just go do something!"

    "Alone?"

    Angexci grabbed her mug, and let the bitter coffee slowly fill it. She wandered to the fridge and pulled out her prized caramel creamer. "I don't know, Palette. Call Goth or something."