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I will always come." Grillby smiled down at Sans, curled up asleep in his bed.

The hand on his arm squeezed, warmth radiating out and into his bones which suddenly felt cold as snow, "leave me alone," He shook and shook and shook, and every shake brought a wave of warmth to chase away the chill in his SOUL. Sans cringed at the pain, shooting up from a 4 to an 8. I will always come….." Flames flickered under his jaw, a hand tilting his face up..warm lips pressed against his frozen smile, "...

One hand still gripped his humerus, the other moving to caress his cheekbones.

Whatever this was about, he wasn't going to do it again, not if it scared grillby this badly. "okay, grillz, ," the flames dimmed a little at that last pun. Sans….." The flame set him on the wooden floorboards, and Sans heard them shift as the elemental knelt in front of him.

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He'd run home, slippers sliding in the ice and snow, certain he'd be bumping into Pap around the next corner..never did. Sans clears his throat, unsure of how to deal with..thisness in his SOUL, an unfamiliar squeeze at the thought of Grillby leaving, "um...don't leave." "... He had yet to finish it, his own memories far too...well, he sometimes doubted he would ever do so. He let his shoes carry him into the kitchen, hands automatically reaching for the apron as he contemplated what to cook. He dug the tips of his bone in, heard the scratch, felt the pain… He pulled himself up onto a stool, the padded seat just a little too high to reach comfortably. He summoned a bone, holding it in front of his face. The short figure shuffled over to the bar, pink slippers barely making a noise against the polished hardwood floor.Sans stumbled through his shortcut, chest throbbing in the cold of the Void, something like a 6 on the scale of feeling great to dead. Hardly any HP left...maybe another rock would fall on him and end it early. He figured he was hallucinating, since he was about a day away from starving again. He heard the crack of his nasal and lacrimal bones breaking on the rock wall. The voice, too, was something he almost recognized, although he couldn't seem to make out the words..again, he was more than half starved at the moment, so being a little out of it was probably acceptable. Gods, it was Grillby, and he sounded so...frightened that no one would come. The arm slid around his scapula, the hand cupping his humerous. The hand hesitated, then slid around to the elongated mess that once was his occipital bone. Grillby prided himself on his professionalism, and...well, not many monsters had ever appealed to him as more than casual acquaintances.He was damned if he was going to give the kid the satisfaction of dying where they could watch, though...and, well, no one was really around to give him a proper funeral, were they? Sitting here, leaning against this door, starving to death over and over and over. He nuzzled into the warmth, forgetting that he'd given up on trying, apathy thawing in the comforting flames. It was some kind of cotton blend, but...softer than what he was used to. He tried to open his eye sockets, but something rested against the bone, and he wasn't really in the mood to dig something out of his skull. The clicks of a computer keyboard filtered through his consciousness. He slowly breathed in, only noticing now that he hadn't bothered to breath for...well, a while. A hissing voice, filled with fear and worry that made his SOUL dim, whispered, "... Sans tried to sit up - his body gave out halfway there. A flickering hand darting behind his back, flames licking across his thoracic vertebrae as the bartender helped him sit up. He felt the other hand come up to trace the spot where his zygomatic process would be if his mandible wasn't melted to his skull. The arms lifted him, and he found himself wrapped in flames, face pressed to the stiff fabric of Grillby's vest. Sans, please don't…..don't do that…..don't wrap your pain in…puns and jokes! I have fries….." Sans felt the corners of his eye sockets start to tilt up in a smile, but suddenly pain. He shrank from it, then green flames burned it away, "... Sans….bones around your sockets were-" "why do you care? Gerson came over once in a blue moon for 'Old Soldier's Night', which could just as easily be called 'Undyne is driving him nuts Night'. Grillby's was a strictly professional establishment, and, well, he had fought in the war. His grip on the bottle slackened when he saw the skeleton's face. He...hadn't dealt well with the last few idiots to come through here, a bunch of Capitol bums who'd probably be fine in a month or two. Grillby hadn't gotten a good look at him before that moment, only from a distance, but...he'd known quite a few skeletons before the war, and he knew they weren't supposed to look like that. His lights were dim, almost nonexistent, deep bags curving under his sockets, but..were lifted in an echo of the expression of happiness. This was the expression of someone who hid their pain under a mask of joviality...someone who looked far too close to Falling Down for Grillby's comfort...someone who needed help. His expression was so...fake, so...broken, like a mask shattered on the floor, pieced back together so the cracks were only visible to one who knew the design. It was a grin that could never be taken down, never be changed...a grin that didn't spread to his eyes. He stood up, wobbling a bit at the unfamiliar process of standing without a sight reference. When he reached the broken branch he remembered one important thing about Snowdin - there were a lot of trees, snow..cliffs. He'd felt...attracted for as long as he could remember, from the day the two brothers first moved to Snowdin, but..had it become something more? The time he brought in the sketches for a neon sign like those on the Surface? Still, monsters seemed to have developed a...a rhythm by common consensus, and in that rhythm, it was almost midnight on a Monday night. When had he first realised he was in love with his punniest customer? It was before that, long before, back when Papyrus still ran around in that striped dress of his. To really have a nocturnal cycle, you had to have a sun.

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