Palette moved out to a little cabin in the woods to hone his skills as an artist. Three years into his seclusion, he stumbles across a red-scarved skeleton that changes his world.
Main story complete. May have bonus chapters written sporadically.
Palette sat in his chair at his workstation, paper in front of him, watching his guest scarf down a stack of pancakes.
He couldn't tell if they were shy or just couldn't speak since they hadn't uttered a single word since waking up that first day. Questions were usually met with staring or shakes and nods, so it seemed the smaller could at least understand words.
The stranger was more of an observer, he noticed, watching the artist's movements like a hawk. Even now, his eye lights kept alternating between his breakfast and the taller skeleton.
It was as if he thought Palette would swoop in and steal his meal... like he had to stay on guard.
The first three days, any type of sudden move would prompt a defensive reaction, usually causing his guest to hide behind something afterward. By the fourth day, his curiosity began winning out over fear.
The key seemed to be not getting too close. As long as he gave the monster space, they usually didn't have a problem. Palette also had to rely heavily on subtle visual cues to figure out if the skeleton wanted something... though even if asked, he was hesitant to respond.
Food had much to do with his newfound comfort, his eyes shining whenever the artist cooked anything. Peanut butter and jelly seemed like a favorite, but pancakes with syrup seemed to be the winning combination considering the small skeleton was currently on their third helping.
Watching him eat, the honest enjoyment on his face is kind of cute. If only he didn't act so afraid...
Palette wasn't sure how to feel about that, along with what it probably meant when combined with the stranger's other worrisome quirks.
The small skeleton also seemed to be interested in his art. He never drew, merely looking through the sketchbook, always when the artist wasn't present. Palette took to watching covertly from the doorframe since his arrival would usually prompt the smaller to hurriedly put the sketchbook down and run away. From the confusion on his face, his guest didn't seem to know what to make of the sketches.
After the first few times, the artist set some paper and a dulled pencil out on the table. Once Palette walked away, his guest pounced, clearly attempting to mimic the things he'd seen the other doing.
What had resulted was a slew of random shapes and scribbles... though what got Palette's attention was how the paper ended up on his workstation, as if he wanted the artist to see it.
He could have sworn he saw a smile cross their face upon praising them.
Maybe he's finally realizing I mean no harm? Why he thinks I would harm him in the first place... I'm not sure I want the answer.
For now, he would give the small monster his space and let him do what he pleased as long as he wasn't hurting himself... and give him fourths on pancakes if the way he was staring at the plate said anything.
"Do you want some more pancakes...?" Palette paused for a moment, coming up empty. He rubbed the back of his skull with his hand, "I'm going to have to figure out a name to call you."
Tilting his chair back, his gaze drifted to the ceiling as his mouth quirked in thought...
"...G01H..."
The sound was so soft Palette almost didn't hear it. When he realized what had occurred, he nearly tipped his chair backward in surprise. Flailing about to regain his balance, he gaped at the skeleton once he was upright, "You can talk?"
The smaller nodded slowly.
"Wow...," Palette muttered, "and here I thought you were mute or didn't know how to talk. What made you change your mind?"
His guest stared at his plate, his sockets furrowing as if contemplating his next words, "You... no get mad... no hurt... or... make do things. You nice... you... no them."
Them?
"Who's 'them'?" he probed. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he made a mistake. The other skeleton had hunched down, head bowed and body shaking with tears forming in his sockets.
Palette was about to wave off the question when the small monster softly replied, "Bad people... they... they hurt... they p... pain..." He clenched his sockets and whimpered, "I... I no like them!"
Easing himself out of his chair, Palette slowly walked over and crouched down by the shivering monster. The smaller flinched but didn't move as the artist soothed, "Well, you never have to see 'them' ever again if you don't want to... G01H? Is that what they call you?"
Another slow nod. Palette scrunched up his face.
"That name sounds way too impersonal. We'll have to change that. A new name for a new start! How about that?" Receiving a slightly confused nod, he pulled a piece of paper from his sketchpad, writing out 'G01H'.
Staring at it, he muttered different words, writing each one down and getting a feel for the sound as his guest watched on in guarded curiosity. This went on for roughly three minutes, with the smaller skeleton inching closer as time ticked by.
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It wasn't until Palette voiced one in particular that he got a reaction from them... a tiny jolt followed by a wide-socketed gaze.
"Did you like that one?" he questioned. The boy didn't respond for a few seconds, too fixated on the written word.
Moments later, the daze he'd fallen into lifted and he tested the word himself. Please with the result, he nodded his head.
"Goth... yeah, that's a good name, I like it!" Palette beamed, "So Goth, do you want that fourth helping of pancakes?"
A tiny smile graced the small skeleton's face, "... yes."
