A Deep Love - Fell!Poth Fanfic

Chapter 7 - ~Letting Go

(Goth)

The smell of food made me very hungry. Sitting up when I saw Palette, he joined me on the couch. I sat crossed legged, facing him as he lounged down next to me. I tugged my cloak a bit closer on my body, using it as a comfort shield. I could feel his eyes searching me as we ate, so I refused to look at him. Although I was thankful that he had put something on, meager covering as it was.

Bringing the coffee he had brought to my mouth, I smelled the whiskey in it. So that's how you want to play... Good luck. Smiling slightly, I drank half of it and glanced to see Palette watching me. A few minutes later I could feel the soft tingle of the alcohol, but it would take a lot, lot more than spiked coffee to make me fuzzy. He had no idea about my tolerance.

"Mm, that was good coffee, Pal," I said, "but you're an awful cook."

"You don't pull punches, do you?" he asked.

"Not really," I shrugged, "How do you manage to make toast taste bad?"

"Shut up," he poked my shoulder, "As if you could do better."

"I can," I replied smugly.

"Cannot," he countered, crossing his arms with a skeptical look.

"Can too. I cook all the time."

"Liar," he teased.

"Am not."

"Prove it," he challenged me.

"I'll do it later, for dinner, okay?"

"Fair enough," he agreed, "For now, do you want something to drink? I brought something special for the two of us..." He got up and went back to the kitchen, grabbing an amber bottle. He shook it, grinning, and came back with two glasses.

"Wine?" I asked him, but he shook his head.

"Better," he handed me the bottle.

I read the label, "Scotch. Nice. Where did you get it?" I asked him, handing it back, "I mean, you're eighteen. Not exactly legal, Palette."

"Marvul's got a whole stash of this stuff," he grinned widely, hopping over the back of the couch and handing me a glass. He poured the aromatic amber liquid into it, filling it about halfway before tending to his own glass.

"Won't he be angry that you stole it?" I asked, sniffing it.

"Who said I stole it? He gave it to me," Palette shrugged, "Said that since he gave me the one bottle, I wasn't allowed to sneak anything else. It's his way of keeping me out of his stash."

"Interesting parenting skills," I said vaguely, swirling the scotch.

"Eh, it works," Palette shrugged. He watched me swirling it with confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"Just a habit I have," I shrugged, continuing to swirl it around, "I like the way the liquid moves."

"You're a weirdo," Palette said, downing his glass in one gulp and pouring himself another. I chuckled a bit.

"It helps control my intake," I told him. He shrugged, downing most of his second glass before stopping.

"Why?"

"Because I want to," I took a sip of the scotch to satisfy him. It had a vague maple taste and I looked at the bottle. 'Aged in maple casks.' Hmm, cool.

We sat there drinking, Palette watching me while I looked anywhere else, observing the cabin. It was pretty simple, with bare logs inside and a few paintings. The fireplace was made of plain red brick, and the fire from last night was cold. I pulled my cloak closer to myself, shivering a bit. Being so naked was so alien to me I was still adjusting.