"You. Man, no wonder Kat left you. You smell, your hair is knotted, and you haven't shaved in how many days? Forget fighting the gallu. One whiff of you would kill them." He looked at Kish as he stood up. "Don't strike a match. The alcohol fumes alone would send him up like a Roman candle."
"Shut up," Sin snarled as he got up and grabbed the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's off the coffee table. He headed for his bedroom so that he wouldn't have to put up with their nagging anymore.
At least that was the plan, but the walls were so thin, he couldn't help but overhear them.
"When was the last time he changed those clothes?" Damien asked.
"I think it was the last time he bathed... the day Kat left."
Sin heard the sound of glasses clinking together.
Damien cursed. "How much shit is he drinking?"
"Let me put it to you this way... I restock the cabinet twice a day now."
"Damn, how can he fight the demons and be that wasted?"
"I think you were right earlier. He strikes a match and breathes at them. Like a human blowtorch."
"If it wasn't so sad and probably true, I'd laugh."
"Yeah. I hear ya. Personally, I stopped laughing when I found this under his pillow."
Sin cursed as he realized what Kish had found and he went to his bed to quickly verify exactly what was in his hands. Just as he feared... Katra's heinous flannel pajamas.
What a pathetic fool he was. He'd been keeping them near so that he could smell her whenever he slept. Her scent had comforted him on a level that was unimaginable.
And right now, he felt like a jackass at having been found out. But that feeling vanished behind the realization that another man was holding Kat's clothes...
Infuriated, Sin stormed back into the main room and snatched them from Kish's hand. "Do you mind? These don't belong to you."
"Sorry."
He turned to catch Damien's smirk.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing. I'm just trying to imagine you in flannel pink sock monkey pajamas. I'm sure you look stunning in pink."
Kish burst out laughing. "Actually, with his skin tone, he probably does look really good in it. I would definitely say he's an autumn."
"That's summer, you dweeb."
Sin gave them a cold look. "I find it fascinating that you two women know that color palettes for clothes have a name." He turned to Damien. "The fact you corrected him really scares me."
"Hey, I'm not the one sleeping in pink pajamas. I don't want to hear it from you."
Sin glared at him. "It's a good thing you don't embezzle from my casino or I'd kill you where you stand." And with that he returned to his room.
Sin closed the door and leaned against it. Before he could stop himself, he lifted the pajamas to his nose and smelled the gentle scent that was unique to Kat. How something so stupid could both soothe and crush him he didn't understand. But there was no denying what he felt.
He wanted her here with him. And it killed him to be here alone.
"What have I done?"
But he knew. He had to keep her away from him. It was for her own good. If Ishtar had fallen to the gallu, what chance did Kat stand? He would never jeopardize her safety for his selfishness.
Disgusted with his own weakness, he forced himself to toss the pajamas to his bed and head for the bathroom. As soon as he caught himself in the mirror, he understood Damien and Kish. He did look like hell.