Work Text:
“Why don’t you like touching?” Asriel inquired as he carried the cup of markers to the table.
“I don’t know,” muttered Chara, looking down. “I just don’t.” It was at least half-lie. She couldn’t be sure that what had happened on the surface had made her feel this way, but there was no denying it was a factor.
Asriel considered this for a moment. “You can tell me things, you know,” he finally said, selecting his marker. “If you want to.”
Chara clasped her hands together and brought them up to rest her chin on them. She stared at the table. Asriel didn’t push her. “It feels like I’m going to get hurt,” she admitted, and glanced up for his reaction.
He picked out a green marker and held it out in an open paw. “I’m not going to hurt you, Chara.” Hesitantly, she unclasped her hands and took it.
Her hand grazed his fur for only a second, but she became suddenly aware of how lonely she was and how badly she wanted to feel safe around someone. Without knowing what she was doing, she leaned forward and wrapped Asriel in a hug. He instantly returned it, and as she squeezed him tighter she heard him sniffling.
“Stop crying, dummy,” she mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to blink away her own tears.