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She stared at her reflection, feeling an indomitable trembling in her chest. Her copy from the looking glass looked back at her with the same doomed and anxious look. It seemed that when Frisk voiced her agreement to this date, it was perceived as a necessary trip to the dentist, albeit forced, as if at gunpoint. And now, as she stood here in the dim little changing room, she felt like she was preparing to go to the scaffold.
The memories involuntarily returned to the beginning of this evening, to the time when the monster thoroughly insisted that 'this would be the most ideal hour for a meeting'. He came to her at dusk, busily asking if she was ready. And only after her affirmative, albeit uncertain, answer, he grabbed the Frisk by the waist and, emitting red smoke from his eye socket, moved them to a place hitherto unknown to her.
Before eyes, when the haze cleared, a wide city square appeared, flaring up with bright evening lights. It took a split second to realize that this area was extremely rich, but Frisk was completely unfamiliar with it. She couldn't deny that the view of the well-groomed and garlanded streets with various signs of local elite restaurants and other establishments couldn't fail to impress. Especially when, with the coming shadow of night, it became especially eye-catching.
It became clear how much Sans decided to fork out today, since he planned something in such a place. Actually, he didn't lose his magnanimous "everything is going according to plan" expression at all. The skeleton extended his wide palm to the girl with the words:
"Follow me, my lady. I hope this modest place won't disappoint you," his voice sounded as velvety as ever, after which he turned around and pointed to the nearest building, on which "Red Velvet Paradise" was written in elegant font.
But it's was impossible to call 'modest' what the monster pointed out. The entrance was decorated with high arches and heavy red curtains that looked like a ceremoniously opened theater curtain, and there were also many small, but well-emphasized gilded decorative elements.
Frisk knew exactly as well as he did that she didn't belong in this world of lavish lifestyle. But for some reason, the skeleton wanted to make it sound like she was some kind of very important swell. Yes, Frisk could afford to dream about being "rich" sometimes, but all her real desires were about the simple and mundane. But once Sans is treating, then come what may.
Inside, they were greeted by an equally impressive decoration, as it turned out, of the restaurant. The dark red color immediately caught the eye. The ceilings and walls are vinous with a small vine-like pattern and reinforced with dark wood. The parquet was laid out with strict ornaments and was like a wide road leading into the twilight. In places, there were vases with lush vegetation and flowers reaching up to the ceiling, or pedestals with marble sculptures. The decorations gave this place a peculiar atmosphere of a closed gloomy garden. The lights were dimmed throughout the building, focusing only on the right places. Light bulbs shone over each corridor passage and round table, large spotlights were facing a wide stage with live music. Light jazz was playing in the hall, as just the seed for the beginning of this bone-chilling 'posh' evening.
Frisk just looked around in silence, feeling completely out of place. She was even a little ashamed to be here, considering her unattractive appearance. Frisk was in her usual casual clothes, which she had never been ashamed to wear before. But now... in her favorite sweater dress, she felt like a black hen among peacocks. It was especially vivid when Frisk stealthily looked at the outfits of other visitors, among whom... were there both humans and monsters?
It took Determ a long time to notice this fact, because of the long time she was looking at the interior and the dim light, which cast even more shadows. Customers of various stripes sat at tables in pairs and companies. There was a human with a human, or a monster with a monster, but occasionally a human with a monster. And everyone was dressed to the nines. The band was mixed on stage, and even the waiters in the same strict black and white uniform were of different races. Everyone seemed to be having a good time here. There were no angry looks, no screams, no looming threat between the tables, as in the bars where Frisk performed.
This gave rise to the disappointing idea that peace and tranquility can only be obtained for a lot of money.…
Frisk usually didn't often think about other people's opinions, but now she was in decent society. Still, she'd like to look more decent herself...
Sans didn't worry about anything at that moment, while he was, to put it mildly, in a 'working' form. A slightly wrinkled white shirt tucked into dark pants with suspenders and rather ordinary, not the most outstanding men's shoes. With one hand in his pocket, he grinned at Frisk's growing mixed discomfort. After that, the skeleton turned his gaze to someone from the outside, whom Determ had not noticed before due to the lighting, and nodded briefly to the unknown. A few seconds later, a humanoid monster dressed as a restaurant staff approached them. Frisk even flinched in surprise when the creature stepped into the light next to them. The monster had an elongated bone face, similar in structure to either the skull of a dog or a reptile, and also with long skeletal tail behind. The cold blue irises of the bony-faced waiter briefly but carefully examined the pair, after which he concentrated all his attention on Mr. Gaster.
Sans just made a short gesture with his hand, urging the waiter to bend down, which he did, after which a barely audible dialogue began between them. Frisk could barely guess the essence of the conversation because of the music in the hall, so she waited patiently on the sidelines. But the negotiations went quickly enough, after which both monsters turned to the girl. Gaster took a half step back with a calm look, without ceasing to smile at her, and the restaurant employee, on the contrary, took one step towards the girl.
"Greetings, Miss Determ. We are glad to welcome you to our restaurant," the waiter spoke to her directly with the courtesy and politeness typical of a butler, and even made a slight bow."Please follow me."
Frisk nodded to the employee, and he turned around, leading her from the entrance of the hall into another corridor. Frisk finally turned to Sans, and he just casually winked at her 'goodbye'.
After a couple of turns and passing by several doors, the bony-dragon-faced waiter stopped at room number three. The employee turned the handle and unlocked the door to a small room, the interior of which consisted only of a mirror, a table, a chair, a small closet and a mannequin in a red luxurious dress standing nearby. Frisk took a couple of steps outside the door, looking around uncertainly, but her gaze was almost immediately attracted by the scarlet outfit. It quickly became clear that she had been brought to the changing room, and this dress was meant for her.
"Do you need help?" the escort asked, noticing how long she was looking at the dress without taking another step.
"Mmm... oh, no, no, it's okay," Frisk finally broke out of her thoughts, answering the waiter. "You can leave me, I'll be fine and I can come back to the hall on my own."
The restaurant employee only nodded briefly and took his leave, closing the door behind him and finally leaving Determ alone. Frisk locked the room just in case, and then took a deep breath. She looked at the dress again, slowly walking over to the mannequin. As already mentioned, the outfit was red. Even worse, it was an attractively saturated red color. The middle neckline, along which black lace was sewn. Patterns of roses curled here and there on the silk fabric, and the flowers themselves, already voluminous and artificial, asymmetrically decorated the dress from top to hem. The bottom of the outfit itself was not too long and reached rather the middle of the shin, but the hem was cut with a line that could expose the legs and just above the knee.
And so we're back to where we started. Frisk stands in front of the mirror. In this dress. And with a constant feeling of anxiety in her chest. She felt cornered now more than ever. Frisk did not dare to scold this outfit in any way or criticize its quality or beauty. The dress fit comfortably enough, despite the possible overabundance of various elements. But the outfit was clearly prepared by Sans personally and served so that the skeleton could satisfy his gaze at Frisk's expense.
Determ nervously kneaded her hands in front of the mirror in long fingerless gloves made of thin dark fabric and sometimes turned her head to make sure that the hair clip in the form of a red rose with black feathers fits well. It was even funny how the girl torments herself with contradictions, worrying about her appearance and, at the same time, not wanting to indulge the skeleton in all its desires. Of course, the strongest desire was to return home as soon as possible.
But Frisk is here.
She agreed to this kind of "deal."
And she's not going to break her promise.
All she needs is to get through this evening-night. If possible, get at least a little bit of pleasure, if of course she is very lucky. And then, when it's all over, throw Sans out of her life if this "date" turns out to be the worst in her life. With this thought in mind, Frisk finally clenched her hands into fists, trying to straighten her shoulders like a statuesque person, and gathered all her determination to leave the changing room.
Once out in the hallway, it didn't take her long to remember the way back. Just a couple of minutes later, Frisk saw the passage to the main hall, from which light music was still playing, but now the soft voice of the singer who came on stage could be heard. At the same time, the hall now seemed more lively. But Frisk hadn't managed to leave the corridor yet, as she saw a familiar broad figure leaning against the wall ahead.
Sans was waiting patiently for her at the end of the hallway. And as soon as he saw her in the light of the hallway lamps, Frisk could have sworn that for a moment his breath caught in his throat. Or rather, it seemed that way when his calmly expanding chest froze for a moment under his dark blue jacket. But even so, the skeleton did not take off the unblinking gaze of red eyes for a second, and it was clearly ready to devour her completely. But he kept to himself for now. But still looking frightening and sinister.
Despite the repulsive look of the skeleton, Frisk noticed that he had also changed his clothes. The monster was now wearing a dark blue formal suit. His well-pressed trousers and jacket matched perfectly with a black felt hat with a blue ribbon and shiny leather shoes of the same color. Golden cufflinks glittered on the sleeves of the suit, which complemented the picture well, as did Sans' golden tooth.
Frisk didn't even immediately recognize the blue shade of his clothes because of the lighting, and was a little surprised that Sans had more than just red and black costumes in his arsenal. But at that moment, the skeleton seemed to enjoy the fact that she herself was studying it with some interest. Just like him to her.
Soon, the monster broke away from the wall and moved to meet Frisk.
"You look stunning, dollface," he says, standing up to her and extending his bent right arm.
Frisk cringed slightly at this compliment, still unable to stomach his nicknames, which the monster likes to call her so much. But still, Frisk decided to answer him for the sake of politeness.
"You look not bad too, Sans," her voice even trembles slightly from the unaccustomed exchange of pleasantries with the skeleton, but she finally takes his elbow, allowing him to lead her.
The skeleton even chuckled softly, looking at how stoically Frisk tries to keep his dignity and look ahead, avoiding his gaze in every possible way.
The two finally returned to the main hall, where there seemed to be a bit more people. There were customers at almost every table, and some couples even danced in the center of the hall to more groovy music from the artists on stage. Meanwhile, Sans led her closer to one of the empty tables covered with a snow-white tablecloth. There was also a decorative wicker basket with flowers in the center, along with a pair of burning candles in glass flasks, and what can we say about the neatly stacked and highly polished set and cutlery that stood opposite each other. The skeleton politely pulled out one of the carved chairs, inviting Frisk to sit down. She did so, slightly adjusting the hem of her dress to make it easier for her to settle. After that, the skeleton himself sat down on the opposite side.
Almost at the same moment as the couple sat, the same waiter who had previously accompanied Frisk flew up to them. The bony-muzzle worker handed both Determ and Gaster a menu. The wide book was bound in burgundy leather with gilt letters on the cover. Frisk opened the menu, with sincere curiosity to find out what dishes the restaurant has to offer. And imagine her surprise when the choice turned out to be really big. She skimmed through the pages with only hot dishes so far, and the number and variety was truly amazing. Each item had a small printed illustration, and their ingredients were described in sufficient detail. Despite the fact that the pictures were in black and white, they still looked very appetizing.
"Don't worry about the price, sweetheart. Help yourself to whatever you want," Sans suddenly says magnanimously, looking at her, slightly lowering his menu for a minute.
But the resulting gastronomic freedom confused Frisk even more, preventing her from concentrating on one thing. She knew perfectly well that she would never eat so much in her life, but at the same time, each position seemed more attractive than the other. There were even lists of dishes whose ingredients seemed like they didn't belong in this world. For example, 'Baked rabbit in crab apples'. Frisk had no idea about crab apples, but she didn't deny that it sounded interesting.
After ten minutes of serious inner debate, Frisk firmly decided not to risk her stomach and order something that she knows or at least sounds understandable to an ordinary person. As a result, she settled on a simple chicken soup, and Frisk asked for stewed pork with vegetables for the second course. For dessert, she was attracted to the fruit parfait, which was amusingly called "Starfait", the fruits in it were carved in the form of stars between the layers of cream. And finally, the queue came to the difficult choice of drinks.
Frisk wasn't interested in alcohol; for her, all the wine names sounded more like pretentious but empty spells tied to some dates. After flipping through a couple of pages with drinks, Frisk suddenly got hooked on names that already sounded like something tempting: punches, cocktails, and something that seemed to be written in understandable words, but at the same time, she couldn't imagine what it tasted like. Even though under each curious name there was a list of ingredients included in its composition. For reasons, Frisk excluded everything that contains alcohol, but suddenly her eyes caught on the uncomplicated phrase 'Fizzy Cherry'. She was a little surprised that they don't disdain to sell even soda here, which is more common in ordinary stores than in multi-star restaurants. Of course, it wasn't cola, but still Frisk wanted to try this little novelty for herself.
Finally, Frisk announced her full order to the waiter, who was carefully writing everything down in a notebook. Sans' order had already been sorted out and confirmed about ten minutes ago, and now everyone was just waiting for Frisk.
"And so… Chicken soup, stewed pork with vegetables, Starfait and Fizzy Cherry, right?" the bony-muzzled waiter asks, rechecking everything written on paper, after which he receives an affirmative nod from Frisk. "Great, the orders will be ready in approximately forty-five minutes. Do you want drinks served immediately or with the rest of the dishes?"
Frisk involuntarily exchanged glances with the skeleton, who seemed to think for a while, after which he casually waved his hand:
"It's better right away," he said, and Frisk agreed.
With that, the waiter took the menu and took his leave, promising to return soon. And when they were alone, Frisk felt uncomfortable again under the gaze of the monster in front of her. Meanwhile, Sans rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together in front of him, his fedora casting a shadow over his face, giving his red eyes an even more sinister look. At least, that's what it seemed to Frisk, while she tried to distract herself by watching the musicians and the singer on stage and not turning towards the skeleton. She did not notice how the eternal smile of the skeleton trembled a little, and even a slight perspiration appeared on his skull.
"How... are things at work?" Sans suddenly asked, and with noticeable uncertainty, as if he didn't know how to start a conversation.
Frisk couldn't help but turn to him, only then noticing the state the monster was in. She couldn't even believe what she was seeing, as Sans Gaster himself, an important figure in the mafia world and an ever-smiling skeleton who constantly violated her personal space and threatened her and her closer ones, suddenly began to behave awkwardly. For some reason, Frisk found it a little funny. For half of that evening, Sans indulged himself with how uncomfortable she felt. And now... Frisk wants to have fun too.
"What's work?" she raised her eyebrows in surprise, pretending not to understand. "Oh, the one I lost because of you? It doesn't seem to be anything, except that now there's not really enough for food."
Frisk said it in such a matter-of-fact tone, a la "everuthing is bad, but I'll get over it," that Sans even widened his eye sockets in open incomprehension. He clearly remembered that everything had been in relative order since that incident. How had he missed that everything was so terrible for her?
" I was sure that I had settled this misunderstanding a long time ago," the skeleton began to nervously scratch his cheekbone, after which he stared at Frisk with undisguised concern again. "Why didn't you tell me about this before? I would have done everything right this time."
It was strange to see Sans genuinely worried about her. This unusual picture even made Frisk chuckle softly into his palm with a grin. Gaster has been busy for the last week and hasn't been in town until today. With this fact she decided to catch the skeleton, but Frisk decides don't go too further.
"Just kidding. After that, everything more or less returned to normal and returned to its rut. Even though I lost a few working days. But thank you for at least keeping your promise."
Hearing this, a boulder fell from Sans' soul, and he threw his head back with a sigh of relief. But after that, the skeleton returned to his usual smile.
"Oh, that's what you really are. What a joke you have, dollface. I almost lost my soul," he grinned, deciding to continue the exchange of pleasantries. "I could thank you more for keeping your promise to keep me company, too. No matter what I've done."
"I have someone to learn jokes from," Frisk let out a laugh, after which she said it quite seriously. "I have enough honor to keep my word."
"I know," the skeleton smiled at her slyly and winked, which made Frisk frown at his omniscient awareness of her person. And involuntarily, her memories returned to when Sans, in a very malicious joke, boasted that he had been chasing her long before they met.
Noticing the gloomy change on his companion's face, the skeleton stepped back a little and looked down at the table in order to make nervous her less for the time being.
But fortunately for Sans, their familiar waiter finally returned with a wide metal tray. Bone-muzzled thanked them for waiting and placed two different empty glass vessels in front of them, Frisk got a regular glass, and Sans got rocks, a small glass for alcoholic beverages. Next, the waiter put on the table a closed decanter with bright cherry-colored fizz and ... a jar of mustard? She was in a slight stupor, looking at the skeleton's choice of drink, and he just looked at what was served to him with an extremely pleased look. The waiter took it upon himself to pour the drinks, the carafe of lemonade did not cause any problems, but when he was about to open a can of mustard, Sans stopped him.
"No need, buddy, I'll do it myself," the skeleton said with a smile, after which the waiter left them again with a nod.
Frisk just stared wide-eyed at how Sans was trying to carefully fill his glass with a viscous yellow liquid. The monster would love to drink mustard from jar's neck, but still, he's in front of his lady right now. And in front of his lady, he doesn't want to seem like a swine. But he couldn't help but smile wider with emotion when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the startled woman watching him intently.
"As you can see, monsters have very unusual taste preferences, dollface," he grins, continuing to slowly fill his vessel.
Frisk shuddered, stopping frankly staring at him, who was so calmly pouring himself a damn mustard. Who was she to judge someone for something like that? Anyone might as well sip ketchup or any other sauce for their own pleasure. That's right, Frisk isn't judging, he's just trying to convince herself that this is something normal. Still, she couldn't help but think... that it was weird.
"It's okay, baby," Sans said calmly, not without a big smile, after which he raised a glass filled with mustard. "Can we make a small toast?"
The offer was soft enough, and Frisk, after a moment's thought, found no good reason to refuse.
"Why not," she thought, and nevertheless raised her glass of cherry lemonade.
"Let's drink to this pleasant evening," Sans said his little speech and lightly tapped Frisk glass.
"To a pleasant evening," she repeated.
At the moment, Frisk could honestly call this evening with Sans a little pleasant. At least, it wasn't as terrible as she'd imagined.
The glass of their vessels clinked together from the collision, after which Frisk and Sans took the first sip together. She was even surprised at how sweet her drink was. The lemonade gas gently stung her tongue with its effervescence, which made her nose tickle a little. But in general, the name of the drink was completely consistent with reality. And it was so delicious that Frisk gladly took a couple more sips.
Meanwhile, on stage, the last song came to an end, and the musical group took a short break while the applause sounded. And for some reason, it was at that moment that Sans slowly put down his almost empty glass of mustard, as if he had already drunk enough to be self-confidence. Suddenly, Sans got up from his seat and slowly walked over to Frisk's place.
"I know we don't know each other very well, and it's not like I could gain your trust or favor in the right ways..." he began to speak, as if trying to choose his words carefully. And all the while, he was scratching his cheekbone a little awkwardly, not even daring to look her in the eye, "but at least for this evening... or while we're still waiting for our dishes, won't you give me at least one dance, Frisk Determ?"
The piano keys suddenly began to play smartly in the background, followed almost immediately by drums and a trumpet. A new monster singer appeared on stage, looking like a mermaid, and her dress was like a snake's tail. The singer's skin was green, and her straight hair was azure blue. The singer's eyes shone yellow, as did the small antenna of the anglerfish above her head.
At that moment, Frisk was looking at the skeleton's outstretched hand, which was still waiting for her answer. And she was still thinking about whether to give her consent or refusal. From the very beginning, she perceived this evening as something that needed to be experienced and forgotten. But now everything was completely ambiguous. Yes, Sans is an asshole, but not every asshole tries to fix his mistakes. And now Frisk couldn't bring herself to call this date a failure or that she had a burning desire to escape. Yes, it used to be, but now…
Now, it seems that since she's still here, it was a slight omission to decline the dance offer. Even if Sans looked like he was fully prepared to accept rejection with honor. But…
Frisk puts her hand on his, rising from the table.
"Well, while we're still waiting for food, why not," she says, maybe a little uncertainly.
Because of her slight embarrassment, Frisk avoided his gaze again, so that she didn't even see how his eye sockets widened in surprise, and then a wide happy smile stretched across his skull face.
"The man is tall, bad, mean and good looking, and he's got me in his eye," the mermaid singer began her song, while Sans led his companion onto the dance floor.
"When he looks at me I go weak at the knees, got me going like no other guy."
They stood in front of each other, Frisk put her other hand on his shoulder a little uncertainly, after which the skeleton gently put his hand on her waist.
"Cause he’s my big bad handsome man, yea. He’s got me in the palm of his hand."
When they held each other's hand a little tighter, Sans began to lead them. Despite the rather fast tempo of the music, the skeleton did not dare to rush her, because it was clear that Frisk was not used to dancing with someone for a long time.
"He’s the devil divine, I’m so glad that he’s mine. Cause he’s my big bad handsome man, ohh."
Gradually, Frisk moved more confidently after him, and then Sans allowed himself to move more energetic, already adjusting to the rhythm of the song.
"The music he plays, the way he moves me and sways, rocks me to the core."
With each step, Frisk concentrated less and less on her feet, ceasing to worry about stepping on her dancing partner.
"When he sings in my ear, he makes me shiver and leer, leaves me wanting more and more."
Frisk began to look directly at Sans' face more often, until he seemed to not take his eyes off her at all, but at the same time artfully avoided stepping on her or clashing with other dancers. And he didn't stop smiling at her, gently, maybe a little possessively. But with the naked eye, one could tell that the skeleton was happy.
"Cause he’s my big bad handsome man, yea. He’s got me in the palm of his hand."
For some reason, Frisk even wanted to respond to that smile with her own, as if his was incredibly contagious.
"He’s the devil divine, I’m so glad that he’s mine. Cause he’s my big bad handsome man, ohh."
And it was impossible to tell when their slightly awkward dance turned into a kind of tango.