Chapter Text
Living in the Underground is boring. It's a fact which every monster is achingly aware of.
But compared to the monsters living in Snowdin, they don’t know half of it.
Regretfully, you are one of those Snowdin residents.
You, who knows the true meaning of ‘boring’.
Every morning: wake up. Do the daily crossword.
Each afternoon: a walk through the snow, a stroll through town.
Every night: watch some MTT. Go to sleep.
The days often blend together with no sun to mark them. The same goes for the nights, lacking moon or stars.
Luckily, you’ve devised a few small methods to keep things interesting. Small, but proven effective over time as your desperation grew.
Some mornings you do the junior jumble, if you really feel like challenging yourself.
Some afternoons, you drop by the shop and treat yourself to a cinnamon bunny.
Some nights, you watch more MTT than usual.
By setting limits for yourself, you’ve created events to look forward to in your routine.
By restraining yourself. Maintaining impulse control.
The impulse to do both the crossword AND the Junior Jumble everyday,
The impulse to eat all the foods you want everyday,
The impulse to…
Pay a stop at Grillby’s everyday.
Oh boy, that’s a hard one.
You never had to hold yourself back from it because of the food, the drink, or even the atmosphere.
You only longed to go because of…
Well, Grillby.
But who could blame you, really? His dignified silence, the gentle sway of his flames, the mystery of how his glasses ever stay on his head… He’s undeniably dreamy.
And your dreams are the only place he’s ever going to be, because you don’t want to risk ruining what you and Grillby already have!
…
Okay… Well, the truth is, you and Grillby don’t have much to start with.
The few days that you allow yourself to pay a visit to Grillby’s:
as you eat and drink and laugh, Grillby just… watches.
It's unclear what exactly he’s watching most of the time, but you like to think that occasionally it's you.
When he’s not making a drink or prepping food for a customer, Grillby simply stands in silence behind his bartop counter, which acts as a social barrier. As another layer of armor to protect against the possibility of conversation, he finds busywork for himself, like aimlessly wiping a cup with a cloth until it shines brighter than glass typically should.
You don’t take any offense at his reservedness. He rarely speaks to anyone, it has nothing to do with you. As far as you’re aware, Grillby is entirely neutral towards you; your relation to one another is nothing but an acquaintanceship.
…Or so you thought.
Ever since the events of today, you found yourself questioning how Grillby really felt about you.
Today was an unusual day. Which, in and of itself, is crazy enough. After all, when life is so mundane, it's near-impossible for any of your plans to go awry.
Yet even by an unusual day’s standards, this was an especially unusual day.
It was earlier that afternoon that you began your trek through the woods.
The forest, blanketed in snow, absorbed all sound save for your own footsteps. The scene was peaceful, as it always is.
You found yourself wishing for something to come along and cause chaos to make things interesting.
Many times before you’ve considered even joining the Royal Guard, if only to spice your life up.
It's not a terrible idea, since you get along well with many of the Royal Guard's members; it could honestly be pretty fun. But in the end you abandoned the thought, as you’re able to recognize that wanting to hang out with friends isn’t exactly a good motivation for becoming a guard. Royal guards value the protection of the monster race, and the eradication of humans. Though, in your defense, it seems many of them value cuddles over all else.
Or at least one of them.
Greater Dog barrels into you, tackling you into the powdery ice and flecking spittle all over your face.
You had hardly any time to register their arrival--let alone their greeting--but this didn’t phase you.
You and Greater Dog are good friends, so when you wander alone you often expect to encounter them.
They never hesitate to say hello to a friend; it’s nice to have someone so wild and free in your life.
You were toying with the idea of scheduling another poker session with the Dogs when Greater Dog halted your train of thought with an especially slobbery lick on your cheek.
You half-groan half-laugh, and push Greater Dog off of you.
Immediately they know what to expect; as you wipe your face and brush yourself off, they have dropped a stick at your feet, tail wagging at a tremendous speed. You open your eyes after ensuring no saliva should enter them, and when you notice the stick at your feet you can’t help but laugh once more.
“Alright then, buddy.”
Greater Dog looks about ready to explode from anticipation: their eyes are glued to your hand as you very gracefully lean down and grasp onto the stick, in an attempt to reclaim your lost dignity. They widen their stance as you raise your hand up and wind your arm back, and then…!
You chuck it as hard as you possibly can!
“GO GET IT!!!”
You don’t have to tell Greater Dog twice--or once, for that matter. The second the stick left your grip they had already begun bounding through the tundra as though the terrain were as traversable as any solid ground.
With the length of Greater Dog’s strides, it doesn’t take long for them to return with… supposedly, a stick.
Instead, they proudly present to you a ball of snow, misshapen after they had carried it in their mouth.
Well, it's the thought that counts.
“Aww, good job!”
After they lower themselves to your level, you pat Greater Dog’s head, and their ears tuck back so as to offer you more efficient petting.
You thoroughly scratch behind their ears and around their neck, and they kick their leg with satisfaction.
Their show of glee makes you chuckle, but before you can get it out the sound is replaced by an Oof as Greater Dog tips you over with their weight, swiftly knocking the air out of you.
Welp, cuddle time it seems.
In order to ensure they reach maximum pet capacity before you suffocate to death, you try to keep this snuggle session brief.
You smooth the fur around their snout with loving strokes, hug them with a comforting squeeze to their bulky armor, take a deep breath because WOW you feel like you’re running out of air…
You woke up lying in the uneven snow, pawprints scattered all around you.
What… What happened?
Grunting, you lifted yourself up, and observed the markings closer. You were standing in a deep crater in the snow. It was imprinted in a manner of perfect smoothness, as though by a metal chestpl--
Greater Dog had unintentionally smothered you.
And now they were nowhere to be found.
And now you were realizing just how cold you were.
Who knows how long you’d been lying in the snow, left all alone?
It seems Greater Dog had forgotten that most monsters don’t have quite as much insulation as they do... Then again, by the looks of it, they had at least realized that they were suffocating you. So there’s that.
I appreciate the thought… But…
You attempt to sweep off the icy powder clinging to your chest and midsection, but you stop the motion when a stinging sensation makes your hands shiver. The snow is painful to the touch.
You are really cold.
At this point, panic is setting in.
You urge your limp legs to carry you back to town, one step at a time.
Gradually, your shivering becomes more violent. Either that or you simply became aware enough to feel your own involuntary vibrations.
But as even more time passes, you start to lose feeling in many places, too.
The numbness of your body only sharpens the paranoia in your mind, and it's that very self-preservation that keeps your legs moving. After all, monsters’ bodies are altered by emotion and magic more than anything else.
Well, anything but hypothermia, it would seem.
It’s when you manage to cross the bridge and stumble past the ‘WELCOME TO SNOWDIN’ sign that it occurs to you that you have no idea what time it is right now.
Your first guess is… Late.
All the houses are laden in darkness, their lights extinguished. The shop, inn, and librarby have closed. In fact, every establishment in town has shut their blinds and locked their doors. All but…
Desperation drives you forward; it's with reckless abandon that you fall through the door to Grillby’s.
The last thing you saw before you collapsed to the floor was the look of pure horror on Grillby’s face.
This wasn’t the first time that day that you woke up not knowing what had happened beforehand.
Only this time, admittedly, it was a far more pleasant awakening.
You rubbed your eyes with your still-ever-so-slightly-cold hands, and your vision adjusted to reveal a quaint bedroom. A bedroom that certainly wasn’t yours.
The decorations were sparse; there was a photo or two on the wall that you couldn’t quite make out, a bookshelf filled with old bottles and knicknacks, a coathanger, an empty desk with a chair to match, and a nightstand by the bed you were currently tucked into.
…Who had tucked you in?
Never mind that, where were you?
Snowdin was a small enough town that no location within was unknown to its residents. The window, displaying the snowfall outside, indicated that this indeed was Snowdin. But this particular place… It was unfamiliar to you.
Honestly, you should’ve been freaking out. You were in a room you’d never seen before, in someone else’s bed, and last you remember, you were nearly frozen to death; walking alone through the snow.
But as you sifted through your muddled mind, the only emotion you seemed to harbor was a strange sense of calm.
How peculiar… Oh, well.
You were mustering the strength to lift yourself out of the comfy bed when you caught the sight of steam in the corner of your eye: on the nightstand, there was a mug of hot cocoa--freshly poured, by the look of it.
Your eyes gleamed and you greedily snatched the cup. Surely, if it was perched on this table untouched, it was meant for you to drink.
And drink it you did.
You gulped down the syrupy concoction within a minute--in fact, you drank it so fast, it took a moment for the flavor to register.
That was the best hot cocoa I’ve ever tasted! It's practically restaurant quality--
Wait. Restaurant…?
The realization hit you like a giant dog donning a suit of metal armor.
Suddenly, you knew exactly where you were.
And oh boy, were you freaking out.
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!?!
You had barged into Grillby’s and caused a scene! You hardly know him, why hadn’t you just taken the extra steps to get to your OWN FREAKING HOUSE???
Maybe because a small part of me was only waiting for an excuse--
Your mind stopped there. You refused to toy with the thought that you possibly could be that immature.
You shot up from the bed, anxious to get out of here before you embarrassed yourself any further.
I’ll just… Quietly escort myself!
You were facing the window from the wall opposite of the bed and contemplated crawling out that way.
It was then that you heard the door creak open.
You froze, pretending not to notice for a beat until you allowed yourself to slowwwwly turn to face them; whoever had just entered the room, you hoped it wasn’t--
“.............. Ah.............. You’re... Awake.”
That voice. You had never even heard it before, yet it was unmistakable who the owner was.
Gravelly and deep, with sizzles and pops which presented themselves in certain letters.
Grillby’s voice, in and of itself, was a beautiful and intimidating sound. It was the kind of voice which could be used to bend others to its will, should it desire to.
But the way he used it: a small presence with lengthy pauses, it was…
Adorably awkward.
You snapped out of your trance when you realized you were staring at Grillby.
Your face reddened, and beads of sweat began to surface.
Grillby.
Here he was, in all his flaming glory, standing in the doorway; his firelight painted the dull room with a new spectrum of color.
There was no bartop counter to separate you two, you were both alone, and to top it off, he had just spoken. to you!
You would be overjoyed…
But under these circumstances, you’d really rather be anywhere else.
“I--I’m so sorry to trouble you like this! I’ll show myself out!”
You take a trepid step towards the door, but Grillby makes no effort to move aside for you.
You freeze, an odd squeak escaping your throat as you eye the flame monster blocking your path.
He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your legs for a silent moment before he graces you with his voice once more.
“....You... Are... Still shivering.”
You were so busy savoring the sound of them that you had almost forgotten to actually process his words.
Am I…?
You looked down, and sure enough, your legs were quivering.
Does my nervousness have to be THIS obvious?!
But Grillby didn’t interpret it as nervousness. By the way he was acting… He thought you were sick.
Were you? In truth, Grillby’s presence drowned out most of your senses, so you couldn’t be sure. You absentmindedly shuffled your feet, which seemed to confirm Grillby’s suspicions--he looked like he was expecting you to collapse to the ground… again.
Your stomach twisted with guilt, but the feeling was quickly replaced with butterflies when Grillby gestured for you to sit on the bed.
You stuttered as you did so.
“I feel fine, really.”
Grillby simply shook his head. The movement was followed by a few strides to the side of the bed, where you had now gotten yourself comfortable. He leaned down to inspect the contents of your mug--nothing left inside, of course. There wasn’t a lick of it left, and you had made swift work of the marshmallows, too.
He looked back at you.
“.........The hot cocoa...... Didn’t help.......?”
Confused at first, you realized he was referring to your shivering state. He grasps the emptied mug and begins to walk away, but he stops in his tracks as you call out to him.
“No! I mean--I’m a little chilly, sure, but--”
He turns his head to better face you as he waits patiently for you to finish your sentence.
“It was delicious! I l-loved it…”
You trailed off, realizing how dumb you sound made your voice peter out. You can feel yourself blushing.
But you’re taken aback when, as you glance back up at Grillby, you watch his flames deepen to magenta.
But--as flickering fire does--the change in hue was so brief that you found yourself questioning if you had only imagined it in your delirium.
He nods, then steps out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Did he just… blush?
At something you said?
It wasn’t long before a few gentle knocks signaled Grillby’s return. You had hardly any time to collect your thoughts after he left. Not that you would’ve been able to, anyway; since your first exchange of words, Grillby has irrevocably damaged your ability to think.
Well, your ability to think clearly. To be specific.
“Uh, come in!”
You felt it was weird, allowing someone entrance into their own room.
But that was just how polite Grillby was, wasn't it?
You swooned, though you hoped it sounded like any other sigh, because it was right as you made the noise that Grillby chose to enter.
You kicked your blanket aside and sat up as he walked in, as though to prove to him that you weren’t sick or in need of any care.
Not to say that you didn’t appreciate his care…
You locked eyes with Grillby, who was standing by the entrance, carefully observing you.
Oh. Was he waiting for you to get up?
Perhaps you’d finally overstayed your welcome…
“... I’ll... Escort you home.”
WHAT?!
Just when you thought he couldn’t be any more of a gentleman than he already was!
You--perhaps a little too eagerly--jumped out of bed.
“Sure! I know my way there, you can follow me.”
You and Grillby walked out of his restaurant and strolled through the sleepy town.
By now, you guessed it was early morning hours.
Grillby’s was probably nearing closing time when you had stumbled inside; Grillby was most likely expecting to get a good night’s sleep after a day’s hard work, but you jeopardized his plans with your own troubles.
You had practically forced him to take responsibility for you. And… he did. Willingly, it would seem.
“Grillby…”
The light Grillby shone made the snow glimmer, and as he tilted his head to offer you his attention, the sparkles shifted like twinkling stars.
I’m certain that’s what stars look like…
You kept your eyes locked on the snow-stars adorning the ground, avoiding Grillby’s silent stare.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
Grillby nodded.
“Though I’m wondering… Why did you help me?”
Now it was Grillby’s turn to evade you. He returned his gaze to the path ahead.
“...It’s an easy choice...... To help a monster in need.”
While you admired his kind nature, it hurt more than you’d like to admit that what he did for you was… nothing special, in his eyes.
You merely hummed in response to him.
The rest of the walk was quiet, and you subtly quickened your pace to distance yourself from him. You worried you had made him uncomfortable for walking in such close proximity to him before.
You were getting in your head, doubting if Grillby truly cared about you at all, when you realized you were both standing on your doorstep.
You also realized that you were shivering again.
Grillby, of course, noticed this too.
Now that I’m safe at home, it probably doesn’t bother him anymore.
But rather than simply bidding you good night and going off on his way,
Grillby remained firmly planted on your doormat.
Did he have something to say to you?
Hope fluttered in your heart!
Waiting for Grillby to speak, a flickering light caught your eye; it was like a candle struggling to withstand the breeze, tremulous…
It was… Grillby’s hands?
He was fidgeting with his hands.
Grillby was nervous.
…
Grillby was NERVOUS!?
As this realization dawns upon you, Grillby finally works up the courage to meet your eyes.
“I don’t want to have... Trapped you in my guest room for so long...”
He stepped closer.
“Only for you to... Get another cold. ”
Before you could come up with a response, Grillby’s fidgeting hands left his sides and found their place around your waist.
Before you could stutter or blush or react in any way, Grillby had pulled you into his embrace.
But you didn’t need to register the situation before your hands, too, had wrapped themselves around Grillby’s shoulders.
He was warm, so comfortingly warm.
It was hard to imagine anything could get burned by these flames.
These flames, which felt like dancing silk, swaying to a gentle rhythm against your body. You couldn’t help but giggle--they tickled like crazy.
That laugh broke all the barriers between you two.
The heat Grillby emitted increased, sending a flush of warmth through your whole being; you nuzzled your face into his neck, savoring it.
His hands traveled up and down your torso, tracing your spine.
Ironically, you shivered at his touch.
Then, Grillby had shifted his attention to your face, cradling it in his fiery palms with admiration.
Your faces were awfully close.
You began to wonder how one manages to kiss fire…
As you lay in bed that night, long after Grillby had left you standing on your doormat, you were still trying to puzzle it out.
I suppose I’ll have to be the first to try…
And across town, unable to sleep, Grillby wondered if it was possible for him to kiss without any lips.
But he was willing to learn.