Chapter Text
A pale evening stretched its fingers over the town, painting the scene in its glum shades and colors that could described as grey but not quite. Asgore was alone in his kitchen, hands covered in suds while he scrubbed his plates and pans clean of what once was his dinner. Despite the gloomy state of the sunset, his smile hung on his lips, though his eyes looked unbelievably tired. Morose notes flowed from a sigh as he stretched, fighting the ache from his hunched position over the sink. Human-made houses worked well for most monsters, in his case, however, he was about a size and a half too big for most of the amenities in his residence, but he did his best to make do.
Glancing up he saw his flowers, and his resolute smile grew slightly, the greens, reds and oranges easing the terseness of his brow. His mind had been racing for so long he didn’t even try to keep up with it anymore, simply trying to focus on the moment anytime his thoughts grew as dark as the line of the horizon. Ever since the freedom of the surface he suddenly felt so tremendously old, and while of course he was, it wasn’t something he was used to. Even if his body was free of aches and pains due to being ageless, his mind had to deal with the intense fatigue that came with just existing for so long, and while he had plenty of time to think underground, now he felt without purpose, even if he detested his old one. Time blended into a messy soup of experiences so morning and dusk felt like his commonplace, he almost forgot what he had for lunch.
Very quickly the room became too hard to see without unnatural light, the slow transition of day to night blurring the change in brightness, but at the same time it felt out of nowhere for the old king. It snapped him out of his mindless scrubbing, realizing that the pot he was scouring was well more than clean. His melded thoughts left him, offering a moment of clarity, as well as confusion since he couldn’t recall at all what he was just thinking. A feeling in his stomach made it feel of importance but clearly his consciousness didn’t deem it worthy of recollection. He yawned. It was just about time for sleep.
Slowly he wiped the wet from his hands and pulled the plug from his sink, watching the water lazily trickle down in its tiny vortex. Another stretch and he turned around and flicked on the light in his living room. However, a buzzing reminded him that he was forgetting something. His phone lit up in the darkened kitchen, almost as if it was upset at being forsaken. With another yawn he scooped it up, blinking at what the fuss was about, but as soon as he saw it exhaustion lost some of its grip over his eyes.
“Hello, Fluffybuns. I hope you are having a good evening. Do not forget to close your windows and brush your fangs. I know you always forget ];).”
His face relaxed in ways subtle enough that you almost couldn’t catch it, but his demeanor had completely changed. Shoulders relaxed and eyes grew happy, losing any persuasion they had acquired from the sandman. Quickly he tapped away, and thought he was still not at all used to his new phone, this was superb practice, and the reward made his cheeks all the more rosy. It didn’t take long after his response for her to text again, and the pattern repeated well past the town becoming perfectly dark. Lovingly he reprised her ‘Good night’ and looked shocked at the clock.
His tiredness had evolved, no longer pure exhaustion, but now something almost fulfilling. Leisurely he retired to his bedroom, and even though his bed felt misshapen and oddly tall, it felt just right for him to pass into a deep sleep.