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Clover lay on their bed, mind humming. Next to them, Chara was on their stomach, head buried in their arms.
It was hot—humid, even. Wind gently blew through through the open window, and they tried not to focus too hard on their arm hairs prickling at the contact.
... They failed, and ran their dominant hand over their opposite forearm, beginning to rip out hairs. Their mind continued to buzz, leg starting to vibrate.
They'd been laying there for a while now. Conversation had already petered dry, Clover having discarded the puzzle they were solving due to waning interest. Chara, while they hadn't looked over in a little bit, had flicked the book they were reading closed and had taken to resting instead.
They started counting.
Twelve hairs detached from their arm, Chara shifted.
"... I want to get out of this house." They started, voice muffled. Clover heard them shift, and the sigh that followed was clearer. "Whaddya say?"
Clover dropped their head to their shoulder, eyes meeting Chara's red ones. The fuzz in their mind receded, head suddenly swarming. Red eyes sparkled back, Charas hair neatly framing their cheeks–
They slid their eyes away from Charas, mind swirling, the hot air from the window clinging to their neck and face. Clover briefly thought, 'I kinda miss Snowdin,' and they grimaced, forcing their eyes upwards.
The ceiling felt almost confrontational with the amount of visual noise it brought, every sense feeling like it was digging a fork between their thoughts. They closed their eyes instead.
Ignoring the turbulence, Clovers mind refocused—they knew it was too late for Ceroba to even think of letting them leave. Sure, it was still bright outside, but the sun set very late during the summers here.
'But if I don't do something, I'll die,' their mind helpfully supplied.
Chara must've noticed something in their face, because before they could retort to their inner thoughts stupidity, she continued. "We don't have to tell Ceroba."
"Ah," they hummed, eyes opening again.
Clover sat up. They barely ran through a handful of ways sneaking out could go wrong before they answered, resolve already crushed from heat and boredom and the colour red. "... Screw it. I'm in, partner."
Clover ran a hand through their hair, tying it up. They heard as Chara hummed a quiet, "I thought I'd need to bribe them," under their breath—but she spoke before they could process what that meant.
"Great!" Chara shifted to sit up, and Clover knew they were pleased just through their voice. She continued; "I wonder what she's up to right now."
At that, Clover rolled their lip between their teeth. They exhaled, "we can go find out." Running through a list of things Ceroba could be doing, they figured it couldn't be too difficult. "I bet we could sneak out easy," they stated, already swinging their legs off their bed. Knowing the alternative was wasting away into dust, Clover decided there's no way they werent going to at least try.
Chara scoffed, voice teasing, "I could. I don't know about you."
Clovers eyes snapped to meet Charas own, meeting in a glare. "I could be sneaky!"
To prove themself, they finally stood up—sock-padded feet hitting the floor. 'I'll show them,' they thought to themself, barely letting the tickling feeling of wanting to impress Chara sweep their mind. They walked, quietly, across the wooden panelling, hardly making a sound. As they shuffled forward, Chara snickered.
"Whatever you say, cowpoke," their voice lilted, dropping a pitch quieter as Clover twisted the doorknob. Clover heard as the bedding shifted, Chara behind them and an elbow tapping theirs a moment later. They added in a whisper; "I'll follow you, but only because it means entertainment."
Clover huffed, mentally rolling their eyes. 'She acts like this wasn't her idea,' they think as they knock their elbow against Chara's. They force a blink, focusing on the task at hand—their mission. A hand ran over the revolver tucked into their jeans waistband instinctively, ensuring the safety is on.
A stifled giggle from Chara at their action had them quickly defend themself; "I was sheriff fer a reason!" In their head, they add on; 'A good cowpoke practices good safety...'
Instead of letting Chara continue to blow their cover, Clover moves on. Sticking to the wall, they shuffle forward; every step deliberate, carefully avoiding the groans in the flooring. The hallway is dark, and they have to skirt around one of the plants Ceroba stuck everywhere.
When they near the living area, Clover pauses, reaching to clutch onto Charas sleeve. The knitted fabric was soft under their touch. They mentally throw their mind into a blender. Stubbornly on-task, they gesture towards Ceroba, sitting on the couch facing the opposite wall.
Clover let their eyes roam the scene, information processing; Ceroba was facing away from them, hamper beside her, and folded laundry splayed across the coffee table before her. To their right is the kitchen and dining area, and to their left is the foyer—leading to their exit.
Charas breath brushes their ear, breaking their train of thought. "So, what's yer plan, sher–" She pauses. "Hang on, you were deputy, not the sheriff," they interrupt themself, faux accent slipping.
Clover, maturely, chooses to elbow her before answering. "Starlo sure ain't the sheriff up here, so I'm default sheriff," they explain. "I'm also the sheriff of this here house," they pat the wall as though it were a beautiful horse, "so I say, we crawl behind the couch until she moves..."
Clover pauses, whispering quieter, playing into dramatics. The barely suppressed smile they knew Chara was making made something in their chest keen. "Then... we make a break fer the door."
They don't have to look at Chara to know they'd rolled their eyes. "And they say I'm the criminal."
The smile that stretches across their face at the comment is instant, and they joyfully add on, "I'm pinnin' the blame on you if we get caught." A quiet, 'rude!' and a pinch on their arm causes them to turn their head slightly, sticking out their tongue.
Clovers hands hover around their revolver again, and they snap back into focus. Chara's self deprecating, "I'm sure that won't be necessary," slipping their attention.
Ceroba's still distracted, but she won't be forever.
Chara, seemingly on the same track, hums and pitches in. "Hm... actually, I believe we should head for the dining table, then behind the couch after she moves. If she detects anything, she'll just peer over the couch and catch us."
Clover lets her words wash through them, comparing the idea to theirs. They feel their face sour, fingers lightly scraping the wall when they realize that they might have to do this the long way.
Eyes errantly flicked to the foyer. Despite knowing Charas plan is probably safer, they hesitate. "... But, if we're quick enough..."
As if hearing their plight, Ceroba picks that moment to start relocating stacks of clothing into their respective hampers. Clover knows their window of time is short.
Pressingly, Chara whispers, "criminals would know all about being stealthy, wouldn't they...?"
Ceroba shuffles one last stack of clothes into a hamper, and Clover kicks Chara's shin as they grab her upper arm. "She's moving–"
Ignoring how risky it is to move forward, Clover begins the hasty shuffle towards the dining table. Chara's head quietly thunks against the lip of it, and the two end up intertwined very uncomfortably, concealed by the chairs and table cloth.
They both suck in a breath as they wait to see if they were noticed. A moment passes, and then two. Clover twitches, resulting in a jab from Chara.
Ceroba, unbeknownst to their shenanigans, walks past them and into the hallway.
Clover twitches again. 'It's now or never,' they think. "... Ya ready, partner?"
At Charas nod, they grin wide, untangling their arm from Charas own. Their heel presses into a hand, and Chara hisses, but they choose not to comment as they rush forward.
Toes making barely a sound as they rush by, they break into the foyer. Their hands clasped around their boots in seconds, the door already unlocked by the next. Chara hovered like a ghost behind them, and one after the other they slip through the door and onto the front step.
The door gave a groan only when Chara clicked it closed. While the groan was quiet, Clover reacted quick—immediately choosing to run down the path and onto the sidewalk. They tucked their boots to their chest.
Their heart was pounding, a manic smile adorning their face, every limb buzzing with energy now that they were finally free.
Socked feet prickled with errant strands of grass poking through, mud squelching and gravel jabbing. The wind hugged their face, the strands left untucked in the ponytail flying wildly. Behind them, still quiet as a spectre, Chara laughed.
"I'll give you credit where it's due—you didn't bump into anything on the way!"
Chest heaving, they responded breathlessly; "I told'ja I could be sneaky! Ya trusted my judgement through-and-through, and look-it us! Free!"
Clover slowed, twisting on their heel as they started skipping backwards—the knowledge of the neighborhood the only reason they didn't trip.
"We're free, buttercups! Let's go do something—anything!" Before them, Chara fell in step with the pace they set, smile flushing across their cheeks. "Stars, we could go to tha' park, or run down ta the woods, or go shoot guns in the town square–"
"Let's get a move on then, we don't have all night," Chara cut them off. Clover nodded, hastily, before their foot finally stomped on a too-sharp rock.
Expletives they hardly remember learning slipped through their teeth as they tugged on their boots at last, and Chara laughed at their misfortune.
Both feet covered and solidly planted on the ground, Clover huffed; "I could'a stepped on glass, and ya'd've laughed..."
They directed a lighthearted glare at an entirely too bemused Chara, who just responded with a simple, "yes. And?"
Clover sighed, letting it stretch long as they start walking—facing forward this time. "Nothing, yer highness." Chara huffed at the title. "Let's get it movin'—I can still see 'Robas house from here, and she can be very fast when she wants ta be–"
Chara makes a sound of confusion, bordering on curiosity. Clover takes off at a jog before they decide to tempt the beast.
-
Clover sighed, leg bouncing off the ever-present energy they seemed to have. Beside them, Charas arm left a gentle pressure against their own.
Over the course of the evening, Clover had been burning off as much of their energy as they could—'Gosh, I can't believe I actually snuck out with Chara,' their mind cut in—until they'd both come to a much calmer rest atop the playground.
Beneath them, the wind kicked a paper bag across the grass, and Clover let their eyes trail after it as they slumped forward. The wind seemed to whistle between the trees, sun so far tucked beneath the horizon that there only remained a sliver.
They hardly noticed when their head tilted to watch their companion. Hair, far more messy then it usually was, framed Charas face. Her legs swung, lightly thunking against the plastic slide. Their sweater was tousled and flecked in dirt, and a smudge marred itself across her cheek in a way that told Clover she definitely didn't know it was there.
They imagined swiping it off with their finger, turning Chara's face towards them, smiling... Clover barely had a moment to ponder that thought before Chara shifted.
Chara tilted her head in their direction, and raised an eyebrow. Bangs hung to the side, allowing the last flecks of sun to highlight their eyelashes. "... You alright in there, deputy?"
Clovers eyes flicked away, finding a nearby tree much more interesting. The following sentence left their lips in a mumble. "... Ya mean sheriff, partner. We've been over this."
Chara huffed; "uh-huh. Sure."
Clover remained silent for a moment. Instead of focusing on Charas hand next to theirs, so close they were almost touching, they kept their eyes trained on the canopy. Swallowing thickly, they flitted out an excuse.
"Ya got dirt all over yer face. Twas' distracting me," Clover sniffed, and due to their proximity, they felt as Chara jolted. Her frantic rustling told them she was trying to wipe her face.
"What—ugh!" Chara groaned; "that's your fault, and why didn't you tell me sooner–" their complaining trickled quieter as they deemed their face clean enough.
Clovers leg bounced, and they glanced back at Chara through their peripherals—catching the tail end of their sleeve falling back to their side. The speck of dirt remained untouched, proudly blemishing the canvas it sat upon.
Clover tilted their body back in Charas direction absentmindedly, and she startled a bit. Minor annoyance ticked at their brow, and they spoke to confirm; "it's—it's gone, right–?"
Clover swiped their thumb across her cheek, before pausing. Despite how flushed Chara's face always seemed to be, they were colder to the touch then they expected. Their cheek, soft, pressed into a little dip beneath their thumb. Chara's lips started moving—probably saying something to the effect of, 'what are you doing,' or, 'idiot,' but Clover was too busy not thinking to pay attention.
Clover exhaled, and Chara's eyebrow was raised, and Clover–
Leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto their still-moving lips. Lips which stilled—and they were barely warmer than her cheek, which their hand had moved to gently cup instead. Bright, red eyes were widened in surprise, and when Clover opened their own they were lost in just how... nice they were.
Clover shot back abruptly.
"I–" before they could start, Chara interrupted them, laughing.
"What– what was that for?" Her voice was light, and Clovers face was hot.
"Y-Ya– ya just– uh–"
"Jeez, cowpoke, didn't even think to ask first?" Chara teased, and Clover wanted to look away so badly, but she was smiling so pretty, and–
Charas flush deepened. "P-Pretty..."
Clover 'I-said-that-out-loud?!' Gun-Hat choked on a, "Y-Yes! I mean—no! I mean—oh my stars I'm so sorry, ya were just so—glowy and nice lookin' and I got distracted and I just leaned in and– and– y'know! Uh– wont happen again I promise-"
Chara huffed an incredulous laugh, opening their mouth—before cutting off into even more laughter. "You–" they snort. Clovers face felt hotter than the Dunes in its prime. "Clover, I'm not mad calm down. I would've shoved you off this platform if I didn't want it." Clover blinked.
"... Oh."
"Actually–" Chara shakes her head; "I would've done that if I was any less surprised. You're lucky I've been expecting you to do that for months–"
"You've been–!" Clover gapes, "expecting it–!"
"You—yes. I have been." Chara shuffles slightly closer, their arm now hooked between their own. A pinky gently overlapping theirs...
"... W-Well, uh– since I'm... not pushed yet. Don't suppose I can– can give ya another... y'know..." they nervously scour their eyes across Charas expression.
Chara shakes their head, exasperated but flustered. "... Well, if I must agree," she starts, stretching her response. "Then..."
Their teasing words are cut short by lips pressed against their own.