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"Goodbye," said Asriel. He turned away from Frisk, looking instead to the patch of golden flowers in front of them.
Then Asriel felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked back at Frisk. Their eyes were filled with determination. They tugged a little harder.
Asriel pulled away. "I can't go with you, Frisk. I'm just going to turn back into a flower."
They knitted their brows. It doesn't matter, they seemed to say. I could take care of you, even if you were a flower. We can go to the surface together.
Asriel looked down. Then, he said, "Do you want to know something?"
"These flowers," he said, "only bloom once a year, for a season. Dad told me they can stay in bloom for months, actually."
"But once the season is over..."
"They die."
The flowers swayed, caught in a breeze from far above.
Asriel spoke quietly, eyes closed. "I don't want to break their hearts all over again."
He turned back to Frisk and grabbed them by the shoulders. "So go back to the surface. Don't waste your time on me," he said, then let go.
Frisk stepped back, then hesitated. They lingered in the room too long, and Asriel bristled.
"Come on, Frisk. Don't you have anything better to do?"
There were footsteps, and then Asriel was alone, surrounded by nothing but darkness and a single patch of flowers. He wondered what he should do.
He decided he would lie down in the flowers for a while.