Archive of Our Own

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Frisk was practically bouncing as they walked down the sidewalk, swinging their arms and humming a little tune as they made their way. The sun was shining, birds were singing, flowers were blooming—or maybe the weather wasn't all that notable, actually, and Frisk was just overly excited to the point it made the world look three times more saturated.

For a café within waking distance of such a populous university, they were surprised that the place remained open enough that there were almost always at least a few spots left to sit down. It was quaint but not eerily quiet—comfortable and easy to lose track of time in. They really had lucked out the first time when they found it.

Stopping in front of the familiar glass door, they took in a breath and pushed it open, letting the little bell above them chime pleasantly.

"Chara!" they beamed as they turned to their left, spotting Chara sitting by the window. They didn't bother to try and hide the giddy smile that crept onto their face as they saw them. Chara, in a similar but opposite fashion, dropped their slightly creepy default grin and waved at Frisk with an extremely neutral expression on their face. This was the Chara version of being genuine, Frisk had come to learn.

"Greetings," they said as Frisk pulled out their chair to sit opposite of them. Frisk was already feeling eager. "You're right on time."

"What'd you order me?" Frisk asked, reaching forward to inspect the drink placed in front of them.

"Something called a 'Blue Lagoon.' Sounded interesting. Decaffeinated. Oh, and with mango jelly."

Frisk swooned.

This was their fourth time visiting this little shop together within the last couple of weeks. The first time went extremely well—Chara seemed to like the atmosphere and was pleased with the coffee quality (Frisk still couldn't really tell the difference, but they took their word for it). Chara was also quite the creature of habit, Frisk had learned, so they could already assume that the drink in front of them was the same one they'd already ordered the three previous times. They know what they like. Frisk, on the other hand, was "incredibly indecisive," in Chara's own words, so they asked Chara to pick for them.

"You want me to… pick for you?"

"I dunno what I want. And I trust your judgment."

"You fascinate me," Chara said, before turning back towards the line. The person in front of the two of them had just finished, so they stepped up to the register.

The cashier politely asked their opening questions, Chara ordered a cold brew with dark chocolate cold foam and vanilla, and then it came to Frisk.

Or, well, it almost did.

"Hmm… could you do your iced white chocolate mocha decaf?"

"We sure can!" the barista chirped, punching the order into the register with a tentacled hand.

"Perfect. Make that one a medium size too, please."

Frisk couldn't help but giggle to themself at the exchange. They didn't expect Chara to take their request so seriously, and they also hadn't had another person order for them since they were like, five years old. Usually they took up that responsibility for others, and not the other way around.

"You asked for this, you know. If you hate it that's your problem."

"I told you, I trust your judgment."

It was a thing now. The second time, Frisk asked again, but by the third Chara had showed up to their appointment early with some new fanciful drink already in hand by the time Frisk arrived.

"What do you think of this one?"

Oh. Right. They didn't even register that they'd unwrapped the straw, punched it through the plastic seal, and taken their first sip. Chara's literally right in front of them and they're still somehow daydreaming about them. PULL IT TOGETHER!!! They screamed at themself in their own head. They took another sip, making sure to actually taste it this time.

Blue Lagoon was a fitting name for it. It tasted extremely blue. Probably butterfly pea tea with some sort of fruity syrup, and a little bit of soda water. Maybe it was passion fruit? It was refreshing, lightly sweet but also tart, and the mango jelly was a wonderful addition. As much as they don't like to try new things, Chara was pretty damn good at picking out new things for Frisk to try. Maybe they liked to live vicariously. 

"It's good!"

"Actually good, or 'I don't want you to feel bad about ordering me a terrible drink so I will tolerate it in silence' good?"

"It's really good! You think I'd lie to you?"

"You might, I don't know what goes on in your brain. But I'll figure it out one of these days, I'm sure." Their tone was entirely flat and serious.

Frisk laughed.

Frisk laughed a lot around Chara.

The amount of times that Frisk had the urge to crack a smile in their conversations with Chara was a little ridiculous, frankly. If they had a dollar every time it happened they could probably pay their entire way through school by now. They couldn't help but giggle and snort and hang on to every word that they spoke. Frisk had no idea what kind of humorless wasteland Chara was raised in, because supposedly they're one of the first people to ever actually find Chara to be amusing. Thank whatever higher power is out there that they got out of that place.

But, of course, Frisk knew deep down that they were probably laughing too much to be considered normal. Not that they were doing it on purpose—Frisk was familiar enough with the 'polite laugh' you do around someone to get them to like you more. People generally like to feel like they are funny, and Frisk themself has employed this tactic on multiple previous occasions. But in this case, they honestly couldn't help it.

Chara glanced out the window as they took another sip of their drink, and with their other hand they pushed a lock of hair back behind their ear. They were wearing it fully down today, losing the half-up ponytail they often wore and letting it all frame the sides of their face nicely. Frisk was attempting to compose some kind of sonnet about it in their head, though they've never been much of a poet. That was more of Chara's thing.

"Sooooo…" Frisk led with, pretending to be normal and casual. "How was that writing class you hate today?"

"Oh, do not even get me started," Chara started. "You would think that students who enrolled in such a class would actually give at least one singular fuck about the art form, but clearly I have been misinformed."

Frisk laughed involuntarily, as was typical of them. "Please tell me about it."

"So," they began, adjusting themself in their chair. They leaned in a little closer to Frisk. "We were assigned a short story to read on our own time to discuss in class today. Such a basic assignment, really, but some people have apparently gone their entire lives without learning how to read and take away anything productive from it," they complained, voice laced with irritation. They took a sip of their coffee before continuing, "Of course, half of the class didn't even read it, and another thirty percent refuse to speak up even when they have something to say, so it leaves me and maybe two or three other students left to do all of the heavy lifting of answering the Professor's questions."

"…Freshmen," Frisk said with a laugh, as though they were not also a first-year student themself.

"I know," Chara agreed, exactly the same amount of hypocrite as Frisk. "And on top of that, our poor professor is not nearly stern enough to facilitate good dialogue, so half of the class time wound up being wasted by me attempting to correct one of the two other sacrificial discussion lambs on their horribly incorrect takes about one of the characters, and—ugh. Don't even get me started. I know college is where you come to learn, but did high school seriously teach you nothing?" They concluded, voice threatening to get a little too raised for the middle of a mostly quiet cafe. They took another sip, presumably to cool down. "Apologies, Frisk. You're above having to hear about the neanderthals I happen to share classes with."

"No, no, keep going," Frisk egged on. "It was just getting good."

"Well, if you truly wish for it," they began, failing to mask how pleased they were at being urged to continue. Their face shifted into a smile which could only be described as devilish and wholly unfriendly and it made Frisk's weak little heart do a flip in their chest.

God, they liked them so much.

But could you blame Frisk, really? Imagine, you stumble into class and spot somebody pretty with an air of classiness about them—staring off at the door with their cheek rested on one hand like they’re the mysteriously quiet and bookish protagonist of a romance novel, except with a smile that can only be described as downright scary. Frisk could tell that other students were purposefully avoiding the seat next to them, but this made them all the more interested.

And when they turned to face you, you managed to catch a glimpse of their naturally adorable surprised face that they couldn't quite stifle in time, and their cheeks which seemed to be permanently flushed pink. And then, once you get to talking, they spoke with the eloquence of a classic novel writer and have a personality that can only be described as spiritually goth. And who's not into goths?

So yes, Frisk was crushing. They had decided that they were crushing only a couple of minutes into their first conversation, and they had remained there ever since. Nothing wrong with that. Crushes are normal.

It had, worsened, since that day, but that's fine. That's natural, after having spent so much time together over just a few weeks. As it turns out, their natural chemistry with Chara was nothing to scoff at, and they had spoken to each other basically every day since they met.

On all accounts this should’ve been very easy for Frisk. Considering they hit it off very well in their very first little chat, and Chara seemed interested them in... some vague way. Enough to keep answering their texts day after day, anyway. Frisk was not a stranger to dating—at least as far as an 18 year old could be concerned. They’d done this song and dance a few times before as a younger teenager.

And yet here they were, on what was essentially their fourth coffee date, feeling like their tongue was twelve feet long and they'd never been able to string together a proper sentence before ever in their life. Frisk should've at least had the guts to call this a 'date' by now, but they hadn't even managed that.

Maybe they were just put off by the fact that Chara seemed to be, to an extent, unaware that they were being flirted with heavily. They seemed to approach their interactions with Frisk like they were a puzzle to be solved, or a riddle that Chara didn't know the answer to. The answer to said riddle was, of course, 'I have a crush on you,' but Frisk was pretty sure that Chara remained none the wiser about that. Or perhaps, they found it difficult to handle a relationship in which they were not the dominating force in most conversations. Chara had the natural ability to talk for long periods of time, and they seemed content to go off on long tangents in which Frisk would simply listen and ask little leading questions and make little jokes. This was... nice, actually. It was sometimes exhausting to always be the one trying to keep conversations going. But it was still something for Frisk to get used to. 

Or, perhaps, they'd lost all of their game as soon as they'd made it to college. Who could say for sure?

Frisk stifled the urge to heave out a sigh as they broke out of their thoughts.

It was going to be fine. Surely.

They stayed sitting in the café for a few hours, mostly listening to Chara talk and peppering in questions to hear more of their lovely voice. Chara really did talk a lot, they had learned, at least when they were with somebody they didn't find to be horrible company (which was almost everyone). They loved to complain, but they loved to rave about the things they loved in equal measure. They had a real passion for reading and writing, which came out as a little sparkle in their eyes as they told Frisk all the minutia of a particular author's style of storytelling.

The two of them stayed long after their drinks were finished, and long after they'd finished pretending that they came here to get homework done. Conversation flowed naturally between the two of them, as it always did.

So naturally, in fact, that Frisk forgot entirely once more that they were still trying to confess to Chara for real.

Damn it.

Well, maybe that's for the best. Chara didn't like crowds, maybe they'd prefer a declaration of feelings to happen somewhere more private? Then again, it's not like anyone was listening in on them, so maybe location didn't matter and Frisk was just making up excuses for their lack of balls.

As their little outing came to a close—Chara waving a goodbye and saying "See you later, Frisk," as they began to leave—a newfound sense of nervousness wormed its way into Frisk's stomach.

But it would be fine. Coffee and little drinks was a normal friend slash acquaintance activity. They'd confess their feelings next weekend, when they had a better 'date' planned between Chara and themself.

Surely they had it this time.

Today was going to be the day.

Frisk had it all planned out in their head. They had still failed to call their outing today a 'date' when they were pitching the idea to Chara, but still. This was definitely a date. And on this date, Frisk was going to ask Chara to go out with them.

Unlike where Frisk grew up just a few hours away, there were surprisingly a lot of things to do around their college campus. At home they were largely surrounded by what felt like nothing but auto shops and liquor stores unless you drove at least 20 minutes away, but out here they had many more options. Benefits of moving to a college town. So, today, they're dragging Chara out to the arcade.

"You know, I've never actually been to one of these," Chara noted as Frisk opened the passenger side door of their slightly beat up Toyota for them to step out. Being gentlemanly, step 1, check. Not that they had a list, or anything, though.

"Really?" Frisk asked, slipping their car key back into their bag and shutting the door.

"Well, I suppose I could have gone alone once I had a license, but I didn't see any point in it. Seems like more of a group activity. And heaven forbid I spend any longer than necessary around my god awful high school classmates."

Frisk laughed a little at their honesty. It'd become obvious to Frisk over the last few months of knowing Chara that they hadn't experienced a lot of stereotypical facets of teenage life, though it didn't seem to bother them all that much. Whether that was because they were good at hiding it or because they truly couldn't care less, Frisk could only speculate.

"Well, hopefully I can give you a good first arcade experience then!"

"Oh, that I have no doubt about."

Frisk could feel their ears grow a little warmer as they pushed open the front door and held it for Chara to step inside.

The arcade was huge. The one Frisk used to take their little siblings to was a relatively humble operation, but this was one of those big fancy types which included a restaurant and bowling and karaoke and slightly overpriced rechargeable game cards. They had rhythm games from overseas and several aisles worth of rigged claw machines full of plushies and anime figures and other miscellaneous junk.

They stopped at the card machine first, at which Chara immediately dove in front of Frisk and selected the option to buy two new cards before Frisk even had the opportunity to read the display.

"What? No! You can't pay for me!" Frisk tried, even though they knew they were already too late.

"Who says I'm getting one for you? What if I want two cards for myself?" Chara replied, their tone flat and humorless.

"Wait, do you actually?"

"No, of course not," they said, smirking at their own joke. "And yes, I can pay for you."

"Chara! You don't have to do that. I can get it myself, really."

"I'm already halfway there," they said, pulling their sleek black wallet out of their little black crossbody bag and flashing a golden credit card.

"You can't pay for everything for me. I owe you like, five coffees now."

"Frisk, let me waste my horrible parents' money as I please. It brings me an incredible amount of joy to do so." Frisk snorted out a singular laugh. "You owe me nothing except your presence here."

"Okay, okay, fine. But I'll get you to let me buy you something one of these days."

"Perhaps I'll allow it once."

The machine dispensed the cards—the two of them hitting the little metal tray with a clink.

"So what should we do first?" Chara asked, picking up the cards and handing one to Frisk.

"Ummm…is there anything in particular you want to see?"

"Not in particular, no. I'm relying on you to be my arcade guide for today."

"Okay then, you can count on me!" Frisk said confidently, bumping a fist against their chest. "Let's maybe peek at the claw machines first?"

"Lead the way," Chara said, though they were mostly walking side-by-side.

The pair wandered through the rows of flashy, colorful machines—all full of a variety of mostly plush toys. It was a Saturday, so the arcade already had quite a few other groups of people inside. A few were attempting to brave the insidious crane games, and Frisk could hear someone a little ways away let out a very loud audible groan. It seems like Chara could hear it too, because they let out a slight "tch" sound and an exhale that was almost a laugh.

"Have you tried these before?" Chara asked Frisk as they meandered the aisles.

"Yeah, of course! When I used to bring my little siblings to the arcade, they'd always be trying to get me to win stuff for them. Though, we never had this many options. And the machines took metal tokens."

"They do seem to have everything here."

As they continued walking, Frisk noticed Chara looking a little bit more intently at one game than they had the others—glancing back at it even as they began to move along. Inside this particular machine was a plushie of a quite large, very round, spotted brown dog. It had its eyes closed and its tongue sticking out in a content, silly expression.

Chara was obviously eyeing it, though attempting to be subtle. Frisk broke out into a smile.

“You like this one?”

“Just looking,” Chara told them. "…But maybe I do," they admitted a few moments after.

Perfect. Frisk was going to be the best damn date partner Chara had ever seen. Even though they hadn't officially called this a 'date.' This was exactly what they planned. Sort of. Any good date to the arcade involves winning your companion a plush from the claw machines, of course. This was already going to plan.

“Boom. Watch this. I’m an expert at these,” Frisk declared overconfidently, stepping up in front of the machine. They snatched their loaded game card out of their pocket. They felt as though the gesture of winning something for Chara was diminished slightly off the fact that Chara was the one to pay for the cards, but they tried not to think about that too hard.

“One cannot be an expert at these machines, Frisk. They are programmed to grip harder once you’ve fed it enough money. They're entirely impossible otherwise.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” they joked, which earned them a nose exhale. Score.

“Sure, Frisk. Though, didn’t you once tell me you were a master of nothing?”

“I lied. I’m a master of claw machines.” Chara laughed. Frisk felt like they could take on the entire world. They were going to win this goddamn plushie.

“Please do enlighten me with your skills, then, Master Frisk,” Chara said, stepping back a little to give Frisk the floor.

Frisk was in fact, majorly bluffing. Sure, they were pretty good at these. They had a pretty okay win rate considering how badly most of these things were rigged. Still, though. They were going to win Chara this damn thing if it was the last thing they did. They'd even prepared for this moment in advance.

Staring through the glass at the dog, Frisk couldn’t help but wonder what about this one stood out to Chara so much. They figured they’d be more interested in the machine directly to their left, which contained a similarly big and round black cat with a slightly perturbed expression on its face, and bright red eyes. It kind of reminded Frisk of Chara, actually. But Chara wanted this dog, so Frisk would get the dog.

They swiped their card and the little claw flared to life. They leaned in close, readjusting the position with the joystick many times before they decided it was perfect. They stuck their tongue out just a little bit as they were getting it just right.

“Okay, now watch this,” they said overconfidently to Chara, who let out an amused breath.

That guy on Instagram reels better not have lied to me, Frisk thought, as they prepared to employ their master tactic. Gripping the joystick lightly, they wildly swung it back and forth several times to get some momentum going. They squinted their eyes at the claw as it swung, as if they had any idea about how to pull this off properly, and after a few seconds of shaking, they dropped the claw with an overdramatic smack of the flashing red button. It descended quickly—momentum still swinging it back and forth, inching its way towards the big brown puppy until it snapped closed.

The claw rose up, barely holding onto the plush, but just narrowly keeping it in its grasp by the plastic loop of the tag.

Frisk gulped in anticipation.

The claw swung a final arc as it reached its zenith, and it fell squarely into the chute with a satisfying gentle plop.

"A-HA!" Frisk exclaimed, simultaneously pointing at the chute and turning around to face Chara, who was looking on in genuine surprise.

"Wow. Color me impressed," they said with a small, disbelieving smile on their face. "Perhaps I should not have underestimated you."

"Oh, no, I didn't even think that would work. I wanted you to think I was cool and tried looking up tutorials for these things yesterday."

Chara laughed full-bodiedly at that. "You're plenty cool, Frisk." they said as Frisk bent down to retrieve their spoils from the machine. They pretended to feel normal at both the compliment and the wonderful sound of Chara's laughter.

"Here you are," they said, presenting the funny looking dog incredibly ceremoniously. Chara seemed amused by the gesture.

"Why thank you, Claw Machine Master Frisk," they replied, beginning to lead the way away from the machine. 

"Are you gonna stick with that one?"

"No. You know, this dog looks a lot like you," they commented casually, as if it was completely unimportant.

It looks like what, Frisk thought, their brain screeching to a halt.

"D-does it?" they stopped walking in the middle of the row of arcade machines.

"Yes. Just look at it," Chara told them, holding it up and facing it towards Frisk.

Is that why you wanted it?! their traitorously hopeful heart thought.

Frisk stared intensely at the stuffed creature in front of them, unable to conjure up anything to say to that.

"No comment," they said, mostly in an attempt to remain composed.

"I'm going to call it Frisk 2."

"No you're not," they retorted, still pretending like they had no intense feelings about Chara liking a plush that they think looks like them.

"You're right, I'm not. I'm calling it Frisk the Second. Much more dignified."

"It does not look like me!" It totally does, but they're not going to admit that.

"It's not good to be dishonest, Frisk."

Frisk did not dignify that with an answer, and instead tried not to overthink the implications of Chara specifically seeking out a silly dog plushie that they think looks like Frisk.

"Okay, let's quit while we're ahead and play something else. Then I can maintain a 100% claw machine win rate at this arcade."

"Perfectly sound logic," Chara agreed, their naturally off-putting smile claiming its place on their face. "A racing game perhaps?"

"Oh you're on."

They were, in fact, not on.

As it turns out, being somewhat of an internet shut-in for most of your formative years will make one incredibly good at video games, much more so than the above-average skills Frisk has picked up over their lifetime of family-style party games with their siblings. Chara absolutely demolished Frisk at racing, fighting, rhythm games, you name it. They managed to win at least twice, probably by dumb luck more than anything else, which was enough for Chara to feel no remorse about the absolute slaughterfest they just enacted upon Frisk.

"You're seriously killing me," Frisk told them as they set down the neon blue gun-shaped controller they were currently holding back into its slot.

"Are you not having fun?" Chara asked, an absolutely wicked grin on their face. Chara with a gun in their hand was kind of terrifying. "You almost beat me that time."

"You've never even been in an arcade before! This is totally unfair," they said, tone lighthearted. Frisk was not competitive enough to actually care about losing at a bunch of silly minigames. This didn't mean that they weren't trying to win, though. "Maybe I've actually been letting you win this entire time, and I'm like, crazy good. You'd never know."

"Oh? And for what purpose do you have to let me win? I thought you were trying to look cool in front of me?"

Curse Chara and their natural ability to say incredibly flirty things and have no idea they're doing it. They're still holding the gun.

"That's—that was earlier. I didn't want to embarrass you with my epic skills."

"Of course. Well, don't feel as though you have to hold back around me," they said, smiling wide and a little threateningly. "I can handle you."

- - 

Lord have mercy on me. They're still holding the gun.

"How about we grab a bite to eat? We can decide what to do next after that," Frisk suggested, hoping that Chara would just please put the gun down already it is doing strange things to my heart.

"Sure," Chara agreed, thankfully putting down the controller into its little plastic slot. "They surely have dessert at a place like this, right?"

"Oh, for sure!" Frisk told them happily, doing a bit of a half-skip to catch up to Chara as they headed in the direction of the restaurant.

In their Chara-induced reverie, Frisk was just unaware enough to not notice the tightness of the walkway between machines, nor the very tall stranger about to turn the corner.

"You know—"

SMACK.

Frisk was, quite intensely, slammed with full force into the back of the nearby Big Bass Wheel machine. They let out some kind of guttural noise, not quite enunciated enough to be an ow but definitely a horribly pained sound.

"Frisk—!" They heard Chara almost scream, their voice more concerned than Frisk had ever heard it.

God that hurt. Their head was spinning a little. Who the hell was that? Did they not even notice? Whatever. It's not a big deal. Holy hell that hurt—

"Excuse me," they heard Chara say, facing in the direction of their accidental assailant. Blinking their eyes a little, they glanced to their side to see Chara holding the guy quite firmly by the wrist. "I believe you might have something to say to my friend here?"

The man turned around, facing Chara. He was considerably taller than them, but seemed to shrink a little under Chara's piercing gaze. They wore a nasty smile across their face, and if Frisk was any more delusional from the pain in their head, they'd think that their eyes were literally glowing red. Maybe that was just the neon-colored arcade machines.

"Uh… what?" he asked, utterly clueless. It was kind of funny, actually, considering how much damage he'd done entirely on accident, but Chara was definitely not amused. "Did I bump into you or something?"

"…You see," Chara started, and if the man's face was any tell, tightened their grip on his wrist, "My friend here is now bleeding because of your utter lack of basic spatial awareness, and their nose could very well be broken."

I'm bleeding? Frisk touched the underside of their nose stupidly. I am bleeding.

"Now I'd appreciate an apology," The guy winced. That was definitely going to bruise. "So long as you prefer to be here playing games for children over becoming a corpse for me to toss in the dumpster behind the arcade."

"I, uh. Sorry," he stammered, whether out of a sense of awkwardness or out of genuine fear Frisk could not say. "Sorry," he said again, slipping his hand out of Chara's grasp after they seemingly loosened up a little. He took a step backwards before turning on his heel and bolting to the other side of the building.

…

Wow.

"Frisk, are you okay?" Chara turned to Frisk finally, completely not addressing anything that happened just now. The switch in tone from horror movie serial killer to genuinely concerned friend was kind of giving Frisk whiplash, in all honesty.

"Oh, uh… yeah. I'm good! Fine here! Am I still bleeding?"

"A little bit, yes. Come on, let's clean this up," they said coolly, taking Frisk by the hand and not waiting for an answer. The pain was beginning to subside, but they still felt incredibly dazed after the exchange they just witnessed.

Coming from anyone else, Frisk might've found their intensity so corny that they'd have actually laughed a little, but Chara had some sort of air about them that made them genuinely quite off-putting when they wanted to be. It seems to be a skill they'd honed over many years of avoiding social interaction like the plague.

To Frisk, however…

…

There is something seriously wrong with me for finding that attractive.

They reached the bathroom, at some point, and Chara mournfully pulled their hand away from Frisk to grab a paper towel to dab at their nose with.

"The nerve of some people. I should've given him a bloody nose to match," they said under their breath, their words juxtaposed by how gently they were handling Frisk's face. They were so close it was dizzying. Or maybe that was the head injury.

"Haha, it's really okay, Chara. I don't think it's broken. Just a little tender," they reassured, their voice coming out a little nasally as Chara held the still bleeding nostril closed.

"You shouldn't put up with disrespect, Frisk."

"It's fine! I've had worse," they reassured, ignoring the intense fluttering of their heart in their chest and the heat beneath their cheeks.

"Hm. You can write me a list of names then. I'll take care of it for you."

"What, like in Death Note?"

"Exactly," they said, not elaborating any further. "Okay now?" they asked, tragically pulling their hand away from Frisk's face.

"Yeah, I'm good. See?" they reassured, though they weren't all that confident about it. "No more bleeding."

"I'll choose to take your word for it. Now let's get food."

Frisk just nodded along, following Chara out of the bathroom, and trying really hard to resist the urge to reach for their hand again.

Frisk liked to think they recovered okay, and that Chara didn't seem concerned with their behavior for the rest of their time at the arcade…

…

However, it would be lying not to admit that they spent the rest of the day with the image of Chara's terrifying smile in the back of their head.

(Needless to say, they forgot all about their confession once again.)

The longer Chara spent around Frisk, the more confused at themself they became.

It was already unusual how well they seemed to hit it off the first time they met, considering how much Chara usually tended to fight social interaction, but it's easy to write off a singular instance as an outlier and ignore it so long as it doesn't happen again. That's just good statistical analysis.

But time and time again, Chara felt their phone buzz in their pocket, and they immediately had the urge to check and see if Frisk was the one to make that happen.

Is this just what normal people with friends feel like? Chara was severely lacking in experience in this department. They had one particular online friend back when they were 10 or 11, but that's about where their friendship experienced ended. And that didn't feel anything like this. Maybe they were just out of practice? Or, is knowing a friend in real life all that fundamentally different from one on the Internet? Maybe that was it.

Chara groaned audibly, looking up from where they'd been staring blankly at a near empty document on their laptop for way too long.

"You okay over there?" A voice from the other side of the room chimed in, looking up from the textbook he'd been pretending to care about for the last half hour.

"Asriel," Chara began, incredibly seriously.

"…Yes?" he asked, a small amount of concern creeping into his voice.

"I think there is something wrong with me."

"What?"

"You—ugh. Nevermind. It's just petty nonsense, anyway," they backpedaled, no longer wanting to begin the conversation they started. They closed their laptop and stared down at it flat on the desk.

"Hey, come on. Talk to me. What's up?"

Chara was immediately regretting their decision to bring Asriel into this. They hadn't known each other long enough where Chara would call him a close friend, per se, but he was… a friend, now. They were friends.

Isn't that funny. Chara had truly and utterly failed at their attempt to be a college loner.

As if the universe wanted to remind them again just how much they had failed—they glanced at the clock on their phone and quickly stood up to throw their dirtiest pair of boots on.

"…Where are you going?" Asriel asked, certainly curious about why Chara had begun to talk to them and then immediately backed out. He closed the textbook and placed it off to the side of the bed, and swung his big legs around over the edge.

"Garden," they answered simply, not looking at him.

"Mind if I come with you?"

"You garden?"

"Sorta. My dad has always been into it, and I used to help out sometimes. Might be fun to give it another try, right?"

"Hm. Are you doing this in order to get me to finish the conversation I started?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, nervously scratching an itch behind his ear.

"…Fine," Chara relented. They did start it, after all, they should at least follow through with it. "Come on."

Asriel quickly stood up to catch up with Chara at the door, not bothering with shoes because he didn't ever wear any anyway.

"So are you like, part of a gardening club?" Asriel asked as they began their walk out of the building.

"Yes," Chara answered. "Frisk… insisted I go with them to Club Rush at the start of the semester, shortly after we first met. Gardening was my pick."

"Wow. I'm surprised you'd be involved with campus stuff," he said. Chara was surprised with themself about it too, but they didn't voice that thought. "Why gardening?"

"Well, I've always liked flowers. And I figured it'd be a nice, quiet activity. Most of the club activities are somewhat solitary, beyond meeting up to discuss adding new plants on occasion."

"Hmmm… and there's no… other reasons? For joining?"

"…I don't like what you're implying, Dreemurr," Chara told him coldly. They knew exactly what he was implying, and they're not going to admit to it, because it sounds utterly and completely pathetic.

And, of course, because he was right.

"Okay, okay!" He laughed. "If you say so. Was this the thing you were trying to talk to me about earlier?" As he asked the question, Chara rounded the corner to the little garden they were supposed to be tending this afternoon, unlatching the gate and letting themself inside. Asriel followed them in, taking care to close the gate behind him so it didn't slam too loudly.

"…Maybe," was all Chara could reply to that, because they were seriously still regretting trying to have this conversation with him. They made a beeline for the little shed in the corner of the garden, closing the door behind them before a certain big fuzzy monster could follow them in.

"Sooo… what's up? Did something happen with Frisk?" he continued from the other side of the door. Chara busied themself with grabbing their usual pair of gardening gloves and pulling on whichever apron looked generally the cleanest. They slipped a small pair of shears and a weeding tool into the big pocket on the front.

"No," they replied, opening the door again with too much force. "Grab whatever you want from in there. I need to water first."

"So what's the problem?" he prodded, ducking into the shed.

"Nothing." The hose was coiled up nicely to the left of the shed. "There is no problem. That is my problem," they said, turning the hose knob. It was equipped with one of those nice nozzles with an on/off handle, so they could better control their watering without need for a can.

"I'm afraid I don't follow." Asriel was almost shouting, making sure that Chara could hear them through a wall and with his back turned. He was probably rifling through the box of gloves to find something his size.

"Can you get out of there? I'm not going to shout at you," Chara complained, turning their attention to the first planter box to begin watering the marigolds. They heard some more ruffling of cardboard boxes and the sound of something metal hitting the floor, along with what they thought was a very quiet "ow" from Asriel. A few moments later, he emerged from the shed, shutting the door behind him.

"Can I help you with that?" He pointed at the hose.

"No. There's only one hose."

"Okay," he said, slightly awkwardly. "So tell me."

"I don't know what to tell you, which is why I backed off before. Frisk is fine. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. We are normal."

"Normal… yeah okay. So that's why you shut your laptop all dramatically and sighed like you were in a teen drama."

Chara hated it when he was right.

"They just… I just—" they paused, shutting off the water before they started drowning the flowers in front of them, "I don't get them. I don't get me, when I'm talking to them. Something about them makes me lose my mind and act like an idiot."

…

Their attention was focused on the flowers, so they weren't looking at Asriel, but they could tell that he was staring at them.

…

“Dude, they’ve totally been hitting on you. You know that, right?”

“They are not," Chara defended. "Frisk is sickeningly friendly with everyone, I’m not an exception.” They turned the hose back on, continuing with their task. The pansies were looking quite sad, whoever was last in charge of this garden was clearly depriving them of water. How dare they.

“You most definitely are an exception. Didn’t you go on a date to the arcade like two weeks ago or something? And then another one to the bookstore? And yesterday to—"

“Those were not dates," Chara emphasized, interrupting him. "We were ‘hanging out,’ as one would say. Entirely normal.”

Chara wasn't even really sure why they were so insistent about this. In their own mind, they were 100% convinced that that wasn't Frisk's intention, and they were determined for Asriel to know that, but maybe they needed to have more of an open mind. Maybe.

“Okay. Sure. They might not have said 'date.' But if they did ask you on a date, would you say yes?”

“That is pointless to think about, considering they have not done that.”

“Humor me?”

“Fine,” they relented, feeling slightly perturbed.

Chara considered the prospect of Frisk asking them on a date for a moment. They thought about how they might go about asking, and where they might go. Frisk was already always very… obliging? Is that the right word? With Chara. Maybe even chivalrous? They often insisted upon opening doors or helping Chara carry things. Would a real 'date' actually be any different from what they were already doing?

People were supposed to kiss on dates, right?

…

...Chara was not ready to think about that.

“…I don’t know," they finally told Asriel, after long enough that they'd finished watering the snapdragons.

“Alright, fair enough.” Asriel was chuckling lightly. “But I promise you, there’s something there, at least for Frisk. Ask anybody. They love to talk about you, you know.”

What was there to talk about, really? Frisk seemed to find Chara to be quite funny, despite nobody at home ever really clicking with their sense of humor. Did they tell other people that Chara was funny?

“…Why haven’t they told me themself, then?” Isn't that what you're supposed to do, when you like someone? They can't really like Chara all that much if they refuse to do anything about it.

“Hm… hard to say," Asriel replied, making himself comfortable on a wooden stool while Chara continued watering. "I haven’t asked. You are a little scary, Chara. Maybe they’re afraid of getting rejected.”

“Frisk has never been scared of me. That is why they fascinate me.”

“Do they fascinate you in a ‘I want to date them’ way?”

“I don’t know, that’s the issue. I barely just started having friends, how am I supposed to know what romantic feelings are like?” Chara asked, voice beginning to sound a little frustrated. They stared at the small rose bush in front of them like it'd personally offended them.

“I guess I don’t really know…" Asriel trailed off. Chara could see him making some sort of thoughtful expression from the corner of their vision. "Everyone always says that you’ll just know, you know? So I've never really thought about it.”

“So you do know what it’s like.”

…

“…Something like that,” he said quietly, his voice twinged with something like melancholy.

Chara decided not to pry.

“Hm. Perhaps there is something wrong with me, then," they deflected, giving him an out from that train of thought. "Maybe everyone else already understands it intuitively, and I'm the only freak of nature who doesn't get it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Chara. Just think about it some more, yeah? You’ll figure it out.”

“But what exactly am I supposed to think about?”

"Well… I dunno. Do you want to be closer to them than you are now?"

Not a bad question. Chara does, for whatever reason, like Frisk, in some strange way they don't fully understand. They were friends, and Chara liked to hang around them in order to study them like a lab rat. And, in a sense, to study themself, too. They don't understand what it is about themself that makes them want to prod for information about Frisk's life. They don't know why they find information about Frisk interesting, when they normally find most information about other humans to be pointless and a waste of their time. They don't understand it, but it is a true fact about them, no doubt.

"…Perhaps," Chara answered, telling the truth. They wouldn't mind continuing to be around Frisk. They would actually prefer for that to be the case. "Is that inherently romantic, though?" they added, not sure if they understood what Asriel was trying to get at.

"Not necessarily. Better question, if Frisk asked if they could kiss you, would you say yes?"

That was NOT a better question. It was a much worse question, in fact.

"…Surely romance isn't purely something as baseless as whether or not you want to lock lips with someone," Chara snarked, ignoring whatever weird feeling the thought of kissing Frisk was inflicting upon them.

"Haha, I mean, it's a little bit that," Asriel replied, sounding amused. "But I mean, there's more to it than that, you know?" he continued, "You prioritize each other. If you get invited to a wedding, they'll be your plus-one. If you're going on a flight somewhere, they're the person you text when you're taking off and when you land. Stuff like that."

He sounded kind of wistful, thinking about it. Like he might be wishing for something.

"Hmm… you're getting warmer, I think," Chara mused, properly thinking about his comment.

Is that something that I would like to be, with Frisk?

"…So is that a yes?" Asriel asked, clearly interested.

"…Maybe," Chara told him, "It's not something I've ever thought about before. I've always thought I'd prefer to be alone."

As they spoke, they stepped in front of the last little patch of flowers—a small bush of bright pink chrysanthemums. They were beautiful at this time of year.

"Well… no rush. Even if Frisk happened to confess to you tomorrow, I'm sure they'd be happy to let you think about it for a while."

"…You're probably right."

They finished off watering the flowers, staring into the pink blooms for a little while.

…

…

"You know, you never answered my question."

They were broken out of their thoughts with a snap.

"…Which one," Chara replied flatly, though it was a rhetorical question.

"You know exactly which one."

"I do not want to kiss Frisk," they told him, though it came off a lot more defensive than they meant it to. Their ears burned.

"Alright, whatever you say. Keep thinking about that one, too," he said teasingly.

"What's got you so interested in my love life, anyway?" Chara asked, feeling slightly annoyed in the way one might feel towards a sibling.

"Isn't it my job to pry?"

"You're not actually my brother," they told him, echoing a sentiment from a previous conversation. If they pushed back on him a little less, Asriel might've seriously called his mom up to prepare the adoption papers by now.

"Ouch! Chara, you wound me."

"You cannot substitute me for your little sibling when they are not around."

"Yeah, I can't. They'd be mad if I did that. You're pretty similar, though. You both carry a knife around everywhere."

"You never know when you'll need it," Chara said as they turned to him. "You can help now. I assume you know how to pull weeds?"

"Oh, yeah, I can do that—" Asriel started, beginning to stand up—

—Until he and Chara both paused, hearing a voice from the other side of the garden fence.

"Oh! Hi, Chara!" Frisk waved with too much enthusiasm from the other side of the green iron bars. "You on flower duty today? Oh, and hi Azzy! What are you doing here?"

Chara could feel Asriel staring at them knowingly, before turning to Frisk.

"Oh, Howdy, Frisk! I was just following Chara to see what they were up to. Are you also part of the gardening club?"

Fuck.

"Yeah, I am! I was trying to force Chara to join something, haha, so I told them that I'd join whatever they wanted to join too! Then it'd be, like, less stressful? Since we know each other already. I think we're on duty together later this week right?"

"…Yes," Chara said robotically. "We do." Their entire face was on fire. They were going to die here, and their body would become food for the chrysanthemums. They would die here never knowing what the hell Frisk's problem was, but it was their own fault for showing up here anyway, so Frisk would just have to deal with that.

"Yay! You're already better at it than me. I need your help. Anyway, I was just on my way to a tennis meet. I'll see you later!"

"Goodbye, Frisk," Chara choked out, staring at them intensely in an attempt to not look at Asriel.

…

"So thaaaaat's why—"

"Not another word, Dreemurr."

Frisk was beginning to think they were doomed.

Like, okay, sure. So they're not the world's most experienced person in romance and dating. Of course not, they're only 18. But they'd had their fair share of short-lived middle school and high school relationships. They knew how to flirt. If they were interested, they knew how to dish it out and be smooth enough to land a date at the mall or that diner back home with the good sundaes.

And it was all in good fun! They weren't expecting to find their soulmate at such a young age, but they liked being around other people. They liked seeing the shy, pleased look on someone's face after they complimented them. They liked being a good listener, and coaxing somebody into going off about something they really loved. They liked making other people feel good. And maybe they liked the attention, too. It was a hard thing for Frisk to come by in a house of eight, as much as they loved their family. It was nice to feel like they were especially important to someone.

But Chara was… different from anyone they'd known in grade school. They didn't really know how to put it other than that. Chara made Frisk feel like they forgot how to be normal around another person. Scratch that, actually, Chara made Frisk feel like they'd never even learned how to be normal in the first place and had been faking it the entire time. Was having a crush supposed to feel this humiliating? They felt like they were going to die.

It'd been over a month since the arcade incident, as they were calling it in their head, and as much as they tried another several times to muster up the courage to just ask Chara out on a goddamn date they had still completely and utterly failed. They weren't even pretending like they were going to just up and do it on a random day anymore. 

Luckily, they heard their saving grace turning their key in the lock just a few feet away.

Frisk made no move to get up from the bed, but they did turn their head to the side so they were no longer half-suffocating in the pillows. They were almost fully starfished—at least as much as you could get out of a dorm-sized twin bed. One of their legs and arms hung off the edge of the mattress slightly uncomfortably.

The door swung open with a creak.

“Oh, yer here. I’da thought you’d still be out," their roommate commented, and Frisk immediately felt comforted by that familiar southern drawl.

“Cllllllooooooverrrrrrrr…” Frisk dragged out in a whiny voice.

“Wuh oh.”

“I don’t know what to doooooo…” They kicked their legs against the mattress a few times in agony.

Clover shucked off their boots and tossed their bag on the floor at the foot of their bed. Their bed springs made a squeaking sound as they sat down on its edge with a bit of a bounce.

“Alright, lemme guess… it’s Chara.”

“Am I really that predictable?”

“Well, yer usin' the Chara voice, so yeah, a little.”

Frisk sighed and readjusted themself, rolling over to face their body towards the middle of the room. They grabbed a pillow and squeezed it to their chest as they lay on their side, trying to make themself just about as small as possible. They knew Clover was looking over towards them, but they were too embarrassed to return the eye contact.

“I think there’s something wrong with me," Frisk said to the pillow.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes. Definitely. This is a humiliation ritual.” They could hear Clover laugh a little. Evil. Evil evil person they are. They clearly hate Frisk and have no sympathy for their plight. Ignore what they said before about Clover being here to save them.

“It’s just a crush, Frisk. Chara’s yer friend. They ain’t scary. Well—actually, scratch that. Chara is scary. But they ain't scary to you.”

“I know Chara’s scary. I like that about them.” Not that Clover asked, but they couldn't help but make sure that was a known fact.

“Gross.”

“Don’t be homophobic." Clover snorted out a laugh.

“I might consider it at this rate."

"Not helping!"

"Sorry, sorry, yer right. How can I help ya?"

"I don't know! Diagnose me. I think I have a medical condition."

"I ain't no doctor. But I can certainly diagnose ya with bein' overly anxious about all this."

"Hnnnn…" They curled up into a fetal position, squeezing the pillow in their arms impossibly tighter. Clover was right, but Frisk didn't want to admit it. 'Socially anxious' was not usually a descriptor Frisk would use on themself—if anything they were usually a little bit too friendly. It was hard to navigate something they'd never experienced before.

Clover exhaled a slightly exasperated but fond sigh and stood up from their bed so they could plop down next to Frisk. Frisk's shitty dorm room springs mimicked Clover's and squeaked under the weight as they sat.

"Look, I know we ain’t known each other all too long, but from what I know about'cha, you ain’t never had a problem approachin' somebody. You've already got tons of friends in only yer first year here. Yer a real go-getter, Frisk. What’s so different now?”

“I…I don’t know." Frisk willed themself with all their might to sit up next to Clover. They kept hugging the pillow. "It’s different. Every time I hang out with them with the plan to bring it up I just… don’t. I get cold feet, I guess.”

“Maybe Chara's just real special.”

“I like Chara!" they exclaimed, turning towards Clover and meeting their eyes. "But I didn’t think it was all that serious, you know? Not that I want to date them just like, for fun, or something." They paused, considering the word vomit that just came out of their mouth. "Well, I do want that. But not like, in a fake joking way. I do genuinely like them. Not as a joke.”

"I gotcha, don't worry. So yer thinkin' it might not be so casual now?"

"I…" they started, considering their words. "…Maybe." They looked away from Clover as they finished their statement.

“Oooooooh~”

“What.”

“Somebody’s in loooooovvveeee~” Clover teased, dragging out the word.

“I am not! Well—" Frisk cut themself off, before deciding they did actually have faith in their first statement, "No, I am not! We barely even know each other!”

That's definitely a lie. It's true in the sense that they'd known each other for barely one semester, but not true if you factor in how much time they've spent together.

“Well that just ain’t true," Clover points out, very obviously. "You might know Chara better than anybody else in the world, Frisk. They ain't too fond of bein' close to just anybody. And you two have been attached by the hip since ya met. It's rare I run into ya outside this room without 'em.”

“What? Pfft, noooo!" they dragged out exaggeratedly. "Not true!”

“Really? What’s the longest you’ve gone without textin’ ‘em since you got their number?”

“Hey," Frisk answered, voice now serious.

"Very tellin' answer, Frisk."

“I like talking to them, okay!? And they answer quickly! Sue me!"

"I ain't got a problem with it! I just want'cha to see that there might be somethin' more there. It's nuthin' to be afraid of. At least I think so." After a pause, Clover suddenly gasped in the middle of their sentence. "WAIT—Frisk, is this what it's like to have commitment issues?!"

"WHAT?!" Frisk whipped their head around to face Clover properly again. "No! Probably? I don't know! How should I know?"

"You've got datin' experience, don't'cha?" They narrowed their eyes a little as they spoke again, almost accusingly, "You afraid of somebody stickin' around too long?"

"No! I just, ah… I uh—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, Frisk," Clover interrupted, themself, shaking off their previous expression. "I was kiddin', but that's quite the personal question. Ya don't gotta for real answer me if ya don't wanna. That was real outta line of me."

"No, no, it's fine. I just think that, uh… I've never really felt like this before. So maybe I am a little scared."

"And that's okay! Yer allowed to be a little scared," Clover reassured, wrapping their arm around Frisk and placing a hand on their shoulder comfortingly.

Frisk sighed, leaning their weight into their friend.

"…We've gotten to the point of knowing each other where I'm scared to lose them as a friend. I waited too long."

"Hey, do you think Chara would really cut you off for somethin' like that? Even if they didn't feel the same way—which you ain't for sure about yet," they cut in, making sure that Frisk was aware of the possibility, "I think they'd be cool about it. They like ya too much to get rid of ya over somethin' like that."

"Urrrghh…." Frisk whined, leaning over and collapsing half of their weight into Clover's side. "But what if you're wrong and I tell them and they think I'm cringe and stupid and lame and they laugh in my face and never talk to me again."

"Would make our living arrangements a little awkward, that's fer sure. I barge into their room to bug Asriel at least every other day."

"I don't think Chara's the type to consider that. They're too strong of a hater."

"That's true. But they don't hate you, Frisk, so I think you've got nuthin' to worry yer little head about."

"Fine!" Frisk pushed away from Clover just a little, holding their hands up in surrender. "You're probably right."

"When aren't I?"

"You're right! I get it! Chara's not gonna hate me."

"Correct. Yer gonna be fine, Frisk."

"Yeah," they said, actually feeling very relieved now. "Yeah! You know what, I am gonna be fine!" What were they so worried about in the first place? They've got this! It's all going to work out perfectly!

"Yeah! That's the spirit!"

"I'm gonna go tell 'em I like 'em right now, even!"

"Yeah! Wait, what?"

"Thanks Clover!" Frisk said spiritedly, patting their roommate on the shoulder as they pushed themself up. "You're the best!"

Clover was certainly saying something in reply, but it fell entirely on deaf ears as Frisk bolted out of their room and down the hallway, not even stopping to put on shoes.

Chara and Asriel's room was in the same building, just two floors above from Frisk and Clover's. There were a few buildings solely dedicated to first year housing, but luckily for Frisk they happened to be in the same one. Luckily, because it was raining outside, and they had neglected proper footwear.

It didn't matter though. They were going to confess right now, damn it, because they should have just done it already and stopped being a coward about it.

Confidently, they strode out of the elevator and right to Chara's door, knocking a few times and standing with their head held high.

I can do this.

"Asriel, did you seriously forget your wallet again—oh. Greetings, Frisk."

- - 

GLASSES?!

Frisk's brain immediately screeched to a halt, forgetting all about what exactly they were supposed to be doing here, because oh my God. Chara wears glasses. A pair of thin, red, rectangular metal frames sat over the bridge of Chara's nose like they belonged there.

CUTE…

In addition to the glasses, the rest of Chara's appearance was far more casual than Frisk had ever seen them. Their hair was pulled back into a full ponytail, with two strands left loose to frame the edges of their face. They were wearing a black crewneck sweater with an anime character drawn in white line art on the front paired with heather gray sweatpants—a combination Frisk had previously not thought possible out of Chara's wardrobe.

Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute Cute—

"…Frisk?"

Oh god.

"Oh! Um, hi, Chara! I, uh… um," They paused, for a definitely abnormal amount of seconds, trying to formulate a coherent thought. "Glasses?"

Quicktime event failed.

"Oh, right. I've never worn them in front of you," Chara replied, seemingly unprepared for the question. They didn't elaborate further.

"Do… you need those? Like, to see?" Chara smirked at that, like Frisk was amusing them by asking, and leaned against the doorframe.

"Yes, usually. I typically wear contact lenses when I'm going out, but I don't bother when I'm planning to stay in all day."

Surprisingly, even after knowing each other for most of the semester and living in the same building, Frisk had yet to start barging into Chara's room unannounced. Maybe they should have tried sooner. Clover certainly had no problem with it.

"Oh! That uh… makes sense."

They look cute on you, they wanted to say, but they couldn't get the words out of their mouth.

They stared at each other for a moment, Chara very clearly blinking in confusion.

"So… did you need something from me?"

"I, uh…" Frisk was sweating. They could not do this. Why could they possibly think that they could do this? "Do you want to, um, like, hang out? With me?"

"Hang out?"

Shit. They had meant to say go out and entirely fumbled it. Actually, maybe that was better—they started the sentence with 'uh' like a complete idiot, and that would have made for a terrible confession anyway. This dorm hallway was rapidly heating up and their heart rate was spiking. Why am I like this?

"Yes?" they said, upturning their voice like it was a question.

"Frisk, we hang out multiple times every week. Was there some specific reason you came to ask me this in person?" Chara was no longer smiling and their voice was entirely flat, and Frisk had no idea what to make of it. They didn't sound annoyed, Frisk was pretty sure. Probably. Hopefully.

Fuck. Think, Frisk, think! They needed to salvage this. Chara knew that Frisk was weird but this might be the most embarrassing thing they've ever attempted to do. Come up with something to ask them!

...Hang out—Oh, wait, I got it!

"Oh! Sorry, I uh, my brain's a little frazzled today, haha," they said, rubbing their hand through the hair on the back of their head in an attempt to be casual. "Clover is going home for the long weekend, so I have the room to myself, and I uh… wanted to ask if you'd like to sleep over? On Saturday, maybe?"

Nailed it. Completely normal. Exactly what they had been intending to come here for.

If that was really it, you could have texted them, but they hoped Chara wouldn't realize that. 

"Oh. Sure, why not. I've got nothing going on this weekend."

"Yay!" Frisk exclaimed, more out of relief that they maybe managed to seem like a normal person during that interaction than anything else. Chara was looking utterly puzzled, but still somewhat pleased, thankfully.

"Should I… bring something specific? I've never actually had a sleepover before."

Yet another instance of normal teenage activity that Chara was not already privy to. Frisk was beginning to get the urge to fly across the country and start fighting people from Chara's high school the more they learned about them. Or maybe not. It was their loss, anyway.

"Ummm, whatever you feel like! You can come in pajamas. Maybe we could watch a movie?"

"Sounds nice. I'll bring my laptop?"

"It's a plan! Okay, uh… that was it. Bye!" Frisk told them, feeling an intense weight lifted off them. "Your glasses are cute!" they couldn't help but shout as they took off back down the hallway and towards the elevator. They were pretty sure Chara said something in response, but as they had done with Clover just a few minutes ago, they could not hear what it was as they sped away at top speed.

When they made it back to their room, they shut the door with their back and pressed up against it, letting out a huge breath as they did so.

"So…?" Clover started, still sitting in the same spot Frisk had left them in.

"I failed," they sighed, collapsing to the floor in a pile of legs. "Can Chara sleep in your bed this weekend?"

"…What?"

…Goddamn it.

Yet again, Chara had found themself confounded by Frisk's antics. A pattern had begun forming without them even really realizing it. They'd tried to ignore it for the last several hours, but they could only keep the thoughts back for so long.

Was that a normal, platonic reaction for someone to have upon seeing a friend in glasses for the first time? And had they really run all the way here to ask Chara to hang out, when normally they would have just texted them about it?

…Would Frisk have really run here, on a random weekday afternoon, with no preamble, to confess their feelings?

…

Yes, actually, they definitely would.

Chara shut the book they'd been attempting to read with a slam, setting it aside and swinging their legs over the side of the bed. They'd managed to make a little bit of headway immediately after Frisk left—shoving their thoughts to the side, but the longer they sat there the more they began to realize that whatever just happened might've actually been kind of strange in a way they couldn't ignore.

Chara let out a loud sigh. They needed to get out of this room. Frisk the Second was staring at them mockingly. They were feeling an emotion something akin to I need a cigarette, despite the fact that they do not smoke and find the idea of doing so utterly repulsive.

Grabbing their keys and shrugging on their most casual pair of sneakers they rarely ever wore, they did something they'd never done before—they left the house in sweatpants. Of course, not that anyone on a college campus would actually care. People came to class in pajamas in this part of the country. But, to Chara, it felt like there was something seriously wrong with them for them to go this far.

Before they'd managed to get very far, though, they nearly ran straight into a big white fuzzball as they were exiting the building.

"Oh, Chara! You… uh, going somewhere?" Asriel asked just as Chara stepped out from the front door, clearly just as surprised as Chara was to see them going out in their dorm-only clothes.

"…Maybe," they said vaguely, probably immediately giving away that they had something major on their mind.

"Is everything okay?"

…

"…I don't know," Chara answered honestly.

Asriel seemed to contemplate for a moment before he spoke again.

"…Come on, let's walk somewhere. We could get milkshakes?"

…

Curse this monster and his brotherly instincts.

"Okay," Chara told him, relenting to their inner desire for chocolate. "Lead the way."

The diner Asriel had in mind was about a ten minute walk away. They walked in relative quiet—Chara asking Asriel a little about the class he just came back from, and Asriel mentioning the book Chara had been reading when he left, but falling into silence afterwards. Chara knew they were about to be interrogated, but they did at least appreciate Asriel promising sweet drinks before getting into the minutia of Chara's emotional turmoil.

"This place reminds me of home," Asriel remarked as they walked in. A little bell on the door chimed softly as he pushed it open. "It's kinda retro."

"You've been here before?"

"Yeah, once. Me and Clover came to try it. Food's decent, but the milkshakes are definitely where it's at."

They were seated at a booth by the window. Fall was slowly beginning to fade into winter, so it was fully dark out even at the slightly early time of six forty-five. When the waitress came by, Chara went for the chocolate, naturally, and Asriel opted for vanilla.

…

"So… you wanna tell me what's going on?" he started, getting right to the point.

"You could at the very least try not to make it obvious this is an interrogation," Chara replied, curling into themself. They came off colder than they'd actually intended to.

"I'm not interrogating you," he defended lightly, his voice nearly at a whisper as he put his paws up in surrender. "You don't need to talk about it if you really don't want to. You just seemed off."

Off. It was an apt enough description. Utterly and completely lost and vaguely frustrated was a little closer.

"I just—" Chara said, cutting themself off. "I… Frisk, ah. Came to the door. To ask me to have a sleepover with them."

"Oh? Did… something else happen?" he questioned, clearly seeing nothing weird about the prospect of Frisk and Chara just plainly spending time together.

"No, not really. They just… well, they seemed like that wasn't what they originally came to tell me. I can't imagine this question wasn't just something they could have texted me about."

"Aaaah, I see," he nodded, immediately getting an idea of where their head was at. This was beginning to feel like a continuation of that day in the garden. "You think they… wanted to confess, or something?"

"That's my theory. It was incredibly sudden—like the idea had just came to them and they immediately jumped out of their room to tell me. But then they were, um. Distracted."

"Distracted?"

"By my… glasses, I think."

"Your glasses—oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh," he said, like suddenly that made all of this make perfect sense to him. He fell into laughter immediately afterwards. "I get it now," he remarked through giggles.

"Do not patronize me, Dreemurr."

"I'm not! That's just… really cute, actually. Dude, they've got it bad bad."

There he went again. Though, Chara was a lot more inclined to believe him this time than they were a couple of weeks ago.

Still, though.

…

There was something inside of Chara that, for some reason, almost refused to believe it.

"I… I can't understand it. I know you're probably right but I want to tell you you're wrong."

"Do you… not want them to have a crush on you?" His voice sounded confused, and his brow bone quirked up a little.

"No," Chara countered, almost too quickly. "That's—that's not it. There's just… something keeping me from believing that it's real," they continued, speeding up with each word. They could feel their voice raising and their heart rate rising. "I can't comprehend it. I can't comprehend… Frisk. There's something wrong with my brain."

"So you think it's… you?" Asriel asked tentatively, sounding nervous.

"Yes. It's like… I can't trust that it's true. There's a voice in the back of my head telling me that Frisk actually behaves this way with everyone they know and I'm just… the first imbecile to actually fall for it."

Chara could feel themself seething. They didn't want to be talking about this, but it felt like it just all started spilling out as soon as they'd sat down.

"Chara, don't say that," Asriel said, his voice low. "You know that isn't true."

"I just—I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"I don't understand why I'd be their first choice. I don't understand why they'd pick me, when they could have anyone."

…

That was it. It had only really clicked now that they'd said it aloud, but something about all of this seemed to finally make a little more sense.

Chara had been trying all this time to figure out what it was about Frisk that compelled them so much, but they'd failed to consider what it was about themself that compelled Frisk so much. It was yet another layer of Frisk which Chara still had yet to peel away. And, it was one that Chara couldn't solve just by thinking about it.

"Chara…"

Asriel was using that tone—the one Chara hated more than anything. Asriel looked back at Chara with those concerned, down-turned eyes and a frown on his muzzle. He seemed to subconsciously reach his hands just a little further across the table—leaning into Chara's space.

"Don't… pity me, Asriel," Chara spat at him, their voice teetering on the edge of breaking. "It's demeaning."

"I don't pity you, Chara," he said, pityingly.

"I can feel you feeling bad for me. It's oozing out of you. It's disgusting," they told him, crossing their arms and looking down at the wooden table.

Asriel laughed humorlessly.

"I can empathize with you while and also not think less of you. They're not mutually exclusive."

"…Maybe." Chara looked away from him. They didn't say anything else, because they knew he was right. 

…

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments. The waitress had finally come back with their milkshakes (possibly after holding off for a minute or two until they'd stopped talking), and Asriel thanked her kindly. Chara reached for the glass and brought the straw up to their lips.

…It was cold. And sweet. The flavor washed over their tongue. They took only a small sip to start, then paused to take a deep breath.

They couldn't remember the last time they'd actually cried about something. The tiny wet spot forming in the corner of their eye felt foreign.

…

"You know, I… I had this friend, growing up," Asriel began hesitantly as he set his milkshake down, the topic seemingly unrelated. "Who I cared a lot about. And pretty often I felt like I could barely understand her, too."

"…Where are you going with this?" Chara asked. From the way his paw was shaking around the stem of his glass, it seemed like he didn't even really want to be talking about this. His gaze was fixed down at the sugary liquid in front of him, and his eyes looked almost sad.

"Just hear me out, okay?"

…

Chara looked back down, and took another sip.

…

"…This friend… she did things I didn't understand sometimes, and it felt like she was always just a little out of reach. But… but we were still friends. Joined at the hip. I didn't always understand why she chose to stick with me, but she did."

He paused, taking a small drink from his glass. The condensation was lightly wetting the fur around his paw pads.

"It's… hard. To know what other people are thinking. I'm not sure there's any two people in the world who can say they understand every single thing about each other. But… that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. You, uh… never know when something might happen."

"Some… thing?"

"You know. You should tell other people that you care about them. In case they're uh… not around. Anymore."

Oh.

…

"I'm sorry, Asriel," Chara nearly whispered, finally understanding. The wet spot in their eye grew larger for a moment, before they blinked it away.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"No, I mean... I'm sorry you felt like you had to share something so personal just to get through my thick skull. I was being irrational."

"It's okay. I'm irrational all the time."

"It's not irrational to be frustrated. You can be mean sometimes, Asriel," they told him. They knew he had the capacity for it somewhere in there, but he always refused to let it out. "I know that sounds cliché coming from me, but I mean it."

"I know," he said, smiling a little. "But really, you don't have to apologize. I told you that because I trust you."

"…Was this the point you were trying to make?" Chara asked him, feeling like they were beginning to be on the same page.

"Sort of. I know it might be… hard, for you to trust people. But if you're going to trust anyone, I think it should be Frisk. They'd never try to hurt you on purpose, you know that."

"I… I know. But… do they trust me? If they really feel so strongly, then wouldn't they just… say it?"

"I think Frisk trusts you more than anyone else. I think they're just scared. Aren't you scared, too?"

"…Perhaps I am. I don't… really know what exactly I'm feeling. It's all new to me."

"Maybe it's new to them too. I've heard a little about them having some romantic experience, but nothing about all that makes me think that they felt all that strongly about any of it. Maybe they like you so much that it's scary."

"…We're the same in that regard, then."

…

Maybe Chara had been asking the wrong question all this time. It was confusing for them, of course—liking a human as much as they do. But outliers do not reflect the majority. Frisk was… Frisk. Frisk was a lot of things. A lot of things that Chara is not. And it's hard to explain why exactly all of these things about them were interesting and entertaining and charming to Chara, but it wasn't hard for them to list what.

No, perhaps instead they should have been wondering what it is about themself that draws Frisk to them. If it was obvious enough that their friends could all tell, then it must be something, right? Was there something that even Chara didn't know about themself, that Frisk understood?

…Well, there's at least one way for me to find that out.

…

"Even if you're both scared, I think you'll work it out," Asriel encouraged. "You two have too much chemistry not to. And hey, you could always ask them out instead. I've never known you to be someone who doesn't take what they want."

Chara felt a lot of things about Frisk. That was the easy part. But were those feelings… love?

…

"…I don't think I'm ready. I still feel a little… uncertain."

"That's okay—"

"But I will be," they said firmly, not ashamed of cutting him off. "I'm so close."

…

"…Yeah," was all Asriel could say to that, smiling gently into his glass. "You will."

Frisk didn't know why they were so nervous. They had no confession plans for today, considering it would be super awkward if they confessed mid sleepover and Chara said no. Would they end it there? Continue hanging out and let Frisk wallow in agony in the back of their mind? Both terrible options.

The dorm room was clean. Cleaner than usual, in fact—Frisk had a tendency to leave clutter around all the flat surfaces—but they'd managed to tidy it up pretty nicely. Frisk had already showered, so they definitely smelled fine. They were dressed down, in a T-shirt and loose pants, but this was intended to be a pajamas-only hangout. That was fine. Their hair was a normal Frisk amount of messy, the temperature was fine—

…

Deep breath.

Everything was fine.

…

Frisk felt like they were going to explode.

Though, maybe a bit of nerves were to be expected. They're hanging out alone with their definitely very un-casual crush, that's enough to make anyone a little clammy, right? Ignoring the fact that any and all previous crushes Frisk has had felt nothing even remotely close to these kind of nerves, they were reasonably freaked out. Probably.

Before they could overthink about it anymore, there was a knock from behind them.

Oh god.

Frisk was in front of the door in record time.

"Hello," Chara said simply, a sincere Chara smile on their face (which was, of course, not a smile at all). They were dressed similarly to how they were when Frisk had shown up to their room unannounced the other night—a loose and comfortable black hoodie and flannel pajama pants, and their red glasses perched on their nose. Though, their hair was down and loose, free from the ponytail they'd seen them in that time.

So, so cute.

"Hi Chara!" Frisk chirped, stepping to the side and holding the door open for them. The butterflies remained, but melted away just a little at the sight of Chara's face.

As nervous as Frisk was when they thought about them, they could almost ignore it and let it fade into a pleasant background hum when the two of them were actually together. Although, exactly how comfortable they felt around Chara brought up an entirely new form of anxiety, which they had only barely begun to try to unpack.

"Asriel told me I should bring nail polish," Chara remarked, setting down their bag against a leg of Frisk's bed. "Is that a standard sleepover procedure?"

"Oooh! Are you gonna paint my nails?" Frisk asked excitedly. Chara's hands were always so nicely groomed—one might assume they got their nails done at the salon, but there's no way in hell they'd want a stranger touching them for that long. Their manicuring was entirely their own work.

"If you'll allow me," they said, all smooth and gentleman-like.

"Yes please!" Frisk answered, plopping down on their bed cross-legged with too much eagerness and motioning for Chara to follow with a little pat of the covers.

Wordlessly, Chara pulled a handful of things out of their bag—a little washcloth and acetone, cotton balls, various polishes. They were such a professional. Though, they had several colors that Frisk was absolutely certain Chara had never worn before. Bright purple, green and pink—even glitter.

Either these are Asriel's, or they bought all those just for me.

"Do you have a color preference? Or would you prefer I surprise you?" they asked, tipping some polish remover onto a cotton ball.

"Surprise me!"

"I figured you might say that," Chara said with a tiny smile. They gestured for Frisk to give them their hand, which Frisk of course obliged. Gently, they led Frisk to rest against the little cloth they'd draped over their knee, and got to work cleaning up the chipped remains of Frisk's last manicure.

Their hands were really soft. Frisk had certainly dragged Chara around by the hand a few times (and vice versa, too), but they'd never really had the chance to notice the feel of Chara's hand in theirs before. It was… soft. And gentle. Chara's touch was delicate and deliberate, and their skin was pleasantly cooler than Frisk's. And it did make them a little nervous, sure, but it mostly just felt… nice.

Chara was sitting so close. The sun had already long since set, leaving them illuminated by only the low lamplight. Their eyes were focused downward, not noticing that Frisk was staring.

…Asriel knew what he was doing when he suggested this.

“Isn’t it nice to have the dorm room to yourself, for once?" Chara asked, breaking Frisk out of their soapy thoughts. They continued their task as they spoke, making quick work of removing the old polish, all while making sure to keep the acetone away from their own nails.

“Oh, no! I prefer you be here," Frisk said honestly. "I don’t really like the quiet.”

“Yeah?” they said simply, in a way that gave Frisk the space to elaborate a little more.

“Yeah, I, uh… grew up with a lot of siblings. I’ve always shared a room.”

Something about being alone with Chara this late, sitting so close to one another—their skin gently in contact… it was very intimate, that's for sure. Frisk wasn't sure when the air in the room had become like this, but it happened fast. It happened… naturally, actually.

“Oh, that's right. You get along with them pretty well, yes?” Chara spoke in a slightly hushed voice, eyelashes splayed against their rosy cheeks as they continued looking down.

“Yeah! I mean, well, we fought as much as normal siblings do, I think. Like when they took too long in the bathroom, or when I'd hide snacks and then they'd still get stolen anyway, you know. But we were mostly good.”

“Sounds about right," Chara answered with a nose exhale and the hint of a smile. "Although I suppose I wouldn't know."

"You're an only child, right?" Frisk followed up with, finally tearing their eyes away from Chara's face and down to their hands. They had left Frisk's hands alone for a moment, putting aside the polish remover and reaching for a clear base coat.

"That I am."

"Did you ever wish you had siblings?"

"Hm. I might detest the majority of humans, but I do not wish my parents upon anyone else. So I'd have to say no. I can't imagine we would have had a particularly good relationship anyhow."

A beat of silence. Chara always spoke straightforwardly, but it surprised Frisk how easily they could say something like that. They showed almost no emotion on their face.

"…If you don't mind me asking… what are your parents like?" Frisk said hesitantly. They weren't really all that scared Chara would be offended by the question—they'd always been incredibly open about hating their home life. But it still felt like a particular new level of intimacy to ask properly.

“God, where do I begin,” Chara complained exaggeratedly. Frisk giggled a little bit. “You’d think a responsibility such as parenting should require a modicum of qualification but alas, it does not.”

“True that.”

“My… ‘parents,’” they began, doing the verbal equivalent of finger quotes—as their hands were currently occupied, “are both perpetual workaholics. Important business asshole types, if you will. Even during the times they were home, they were still always on the phone or entertaining some other douchebag from work. Our house was the sort of modern style you see in catalogues that looks like no one actually lives there."

"Oh, wow. Did you have like… staff? To clean and stuff?" Frisk was kind of curious now.

"Yes, actually. They still drove their own cars most of the time, but we did have someone come in to clean regularly. And we had a private chef."

"Woah… you're like, a little prince."

Chara smirked at that. "I definitely felt trapped like one. If only you could've come to save me."

"Chara, oh Chara," Frisk said dramatically, placing their unoccupied hand against their chest, "I've come to rescue you from this nightmare of ugly modern architecture."

That one actually got Chara to laugh.

"God, I couldn't stand it. Every time I see an actually nice older house get turned into a sad white cube I feel real, physical pain. Remind me to never live in a space like that."

"You're real. It's so… sterile." Frisk could hardly imagine it.

"Isn't it? Even worse when you have far too much space for three people and it feels like a cave," they emphasized, clearly getting annoyed. "Sorry. I'm working myself up."

"No, you're good! Tell me what's on your mind."

“Ugh," Chara started, "they're just… never there. They never were there. It’s hard to call someone my ‘parent’ when I rarely even saw their face. And when I did, it was just… ‘Sit up straight, Chara,’ 'Fix your collar, Chara, it's crooked,' ‘We’re having some important investors over for dinner, Chara, put on something nice,’ ‘Don’t say anything weird, Chara,’ ‘Why can’t you be normal, Chara?’”

…

Frisk was quiet. Chara could certainly talk for a while, but this was the first time they’d opened up about their home life to this degree. Frisk had never heard them get so passionate about it before. Have they told anyone else about this before?

“…Sorry," Chara apologized, smoothing their voice out.

“No no no! Don’t be. I, um… I’m sorry I didn’t know what to say,” Frisk fumbled, trying to catch their brain up.

“It’s fine, you didn't need to say anything. I don't want to be pitied," they said straightforwardly, seemingly already over their outburst. "Things are good for me now, anyway. I don’t have to spend any more time in that empty house.”

“Much better to be sharing a tiny room with a big furball monster," Frisk said, their tone light. 

“Much better. Asriel, he’s… good.”

“Good?”

“Good.”

He's like a brother to me went unsaid, but Frisk understood what they meant anyway. They knew Chara had a bit of a soft spot for Asriel, though they didn't often say it out loud.

…

“Maybe… I get what you mean. About not liking the quiet," Chara continued.

By now they'd made their way well into the color painting stage, and were creating a nice pattern of alternating yellow and purple. Frisk's cuticles remained entirely neat and un-flooded, something they are almost never able to accomplish on their own.

“Yeah?” Frisk encouraged, curious.

“I, ugh… I didn’t get along with the people back home, you know that. Everyone was so stuffy and arrogant and stuck-up, that I preferred to be alone. But, ah… if it’s people like Asriel, and like you, then, um. Perhaps the silence is… um, not as preferable," they settled on. Hearing them stutter for once was pretty cute.

“Aww, Chara, you like me?” Frisk teased lightly.

“I do," they replied, perfectly matter-of-factly, like it didn't phase them at all to admit that.

…

I do too.

"…I'm glad you got out of there," Frisk told them, in lieu of what they really wanted to say. I'm happy you trust me.

Chara lifted up Frisk's left hand a little, appraising their work.

"You're really good at this, you know," Frisk praised. "I always get the polish everywhere."

"Just takes practice. And patience, too."

"Do I need to practice if I have you?"

Chara smiled. "No, I suppose you don't. Should I add glitter?"

"Oh, definitely."

…

“You know, maybe I could stand to appreciate the quiet a little more," Frisk started, not wanting their little moment to end just yet.

“How so?” Chara obliged, setting down Frisk's hand to grab the little bottle of glittery top coat and shaking it up.

“Well, I’m always around people. My house was…loud," they said with a bit of a a laugh, "And at school I was always talking to people, making plans or doing activities and stuff. I don’t remember a time that I’ve been alone my whole life. But I don’t know if I’ve ever really been… close? With anyone? I think I always try to keep people around me, but at an arms' length away."

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. I think I don’t know who I am or what I want or what to do and I’m scared of people finding out that I’m actually boring and directionless.”

Wow, okay, coming on strong, they thought to themself. Maybe that was too much. Although, if they said that out loud, Frisk was sure Chara would tell them they were being an idiot, and that they could obviously handle it.

“You’re not boring, Frisk," Chara replied firmly. Their seriousness caused something inside of Frisk to crack, just a little.

“I am boring!" they blurted, before thinking better of it. "I don’t even know what I like! I try to do everything all the time because I don’t know who I am or what I’m supposed to be.”

…

“Frisk, you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met," Chara said, looking up to make eye contact as they did. "I’ve been utterly fascinated with you since the first time you spoke to me.”

“Wh… really?” Frisk said stupidly, their ears getting warmer.

Chara did often give off the impression that Frisk was interesting to them. In fact, sometimes the language they used made Frisk feel like Chara wanted to put them in a jar for observation like a bug. Maybe their interest should have been obvious by their whole 'misanthrope who automatically dislikes everyone except for you and like, maybe two others' thing. Still, it surprised them to hear nonetheless.

“Really. And… you're not supposed to be anything. You have the free will to choose that for yourself."

"I know! I just… don't ever know what to choose."

"Is that so wrong?"

"I…no? Yes?" The question caught them slightly off-guard. "I don't know."

"It's fine, Frisk. Where's that naïve confidence now? You’re the one always saying that things will work themself out.”

"I know I do! And half the time I'm faking it."

"Well, fake it 'til you make it, as they say."

“I… I guess so. I just kind of wish I had a better sense of it all.”

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit," Chara said, that serious tone coming back. "You’re Frisk—you’re friendly to a fault, you easily light up any room that you’re in, you’re strong and athletic and love the outdoors, you're open-minded and are always willing to try new things, you’ve got a weird sense of style that somehow works even when it shouldn’t, and you… you’re the first real life friend I’ve ever had.”

…

Oh.

"You're… you're somebody, Frisk. Don't ever feel like you're not."

Oh I'm so screwed.

Frisk felt themself blink away just a tiny bit of wetness in their eyes. Their heart kind of felt like it was going to burst. If they were feeling any more irrational tonight, they might've just gone and confessed their feelings right then and there.

"I, um… wow, sorry. I'm being awkward. Thank you, Chara."

"Don't worry about it. And, you know… for what it's worth, I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you trust me."

"I… I do trust you, yeah."

…

A beat of quiet.

I really, really, do trust you. They weren't sure when it happened exactly, but… as much as Frisk has managed to worm their way into Chara's life… Chara, too, had come to make a home in Frisk's. Funny how that happens.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to make this conversation all about me," Frisk said, breaking the silence.

"Hey, don't apologize. We started off only talking about my shitty family. We took turns."

“That's true," Frisk said with a singular soft laugh. "You know, maybe I can introduce you to mine sometime.”

Chara seemed to pause for a moment upon the suggestion. Frisk almost regretted it, thinking they’d messed up somewhere, until Chara smiled.

“I’d like that. Though, Asriel might’ve already beat you to it in the ‘adopting me into the family’ department. I think he’s already printed out the papers.”

“Rats! Well, that makes sense. I guess I’ll have to marry you into my family instead, then.”

…

What.

Chara stopped painting.

Why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that why did I say that—

“I suppose so,” Chara said, tentatively, like they had been debating in their head how to respond to that. They resumed their finishing work on Frisk's ring finger nail, holding it up gently with all the care of a real lover. “Do you prefer a spring wedding or fall? Summer would be way too hot.”

Frisk could feel their own face rapidly heating up. Someone should really give them a gold medal in the sport of putting their own foot in their mouth.

“Haha, I dunno!” PLAY IT COOL, FRISK!! “Never really thought about it!” YOU’RE BLOWING IT!! "Clover thinks I have commitment issues, anyway, haha." WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?

“What, you don’t fantasize about marrying me? I’m hurt," they joked, mercifully choosing to ignore the comment Frisk had just made previously.

- - 

WHAT IS GOING ON?????

Frisk continued to panic internally for a few more seconds before metaphysically grabbing themself by the shoulders. They imagined shaking themself in place, saying PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!!! a few times over before taking a deep breath.

“Hmmm, maybe I do," they said, feigning confidence. "You’d certainly look nice in a suit.”

"Thank you," Chara replied, taking the compliment coolly. "Would you prefer to match with me or go for a dress? I've never been able to tell what your preference is."

"Hm… I really don't have a preference, to be honest. But I might have to go for the dress. You only get to wear one once, you know?"

"Hmm…In most cases that is true, yes. Unless it happens to end in divorce."

"Chara! You'd divorce me?"

…

“…Of course not," Chara returned after a beat of silence, tone entirely unreadable.

“…Really?” Frisk asked back, somewhat afraid of their answer.

“Well, naturally, if I'd decided I was amenable to marriage, then that’d be that, would it not? You’d be stuck with me forever. I don’t make half-hearted decisions, Frisk.”

Oh wow.

"Haha, that's true, Frisk said, trying and failing to ignore the way their breath caught at the implication of Chara being possessive over them. "That's something I admire about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, you know me right? I'm super indecisive."

"Eh, that's fine. You're decisive enough where it counts, I think. It's not so important to always know what you want to order at a restaurant. And it's good to try new things, too. I could probably benefit from that a little more, in all honesty."

"…Maybe. Thank you. That, ah… means a lot to me."

"Of course."

…

Quietly, Chara finished up with the last of the glitter. They held up Frisk's hand to appraise once more.

"You've got some serious nail-painting talent."

"You flatterer. You like it?"

"Obviously! It's perfect! I like the colors you picked."

…

"…I'm glad," Chara said quietly, smiling to themself.

Chara was mature enough to admit when they were wrong. They were not often wrong, so this was something that they didn't have to face on a regular basis, but still.

Perhaps all of Asriel's prodding insistence about the nature of Chara's relationship with Frisk had some merit to it after all. Perhaps their outburst from a few days ago was entirely unfounded, and it was fueled mostly by sad, pathetic, weepy self-loathing—which was of course fueled by Chara having forgotten to eat all day, among other things.

For one, Chara didn't typically spend their evenings curled up shoulder-to-shoulder in bed watching movies in mostly comfortable silence with Asriel or Clover, that's for sure. So that's a point for the hairball.

This was a date, wasn't it? What even is a date, if not this?

Frisk told them to pick the movie. They picked one of their favorites that Frisk had yet to see already, and they were pleased to see that Frisk seemed to be interested enough to give the screen their full attention. Pleased, because they had spent the last 30 minutes going between staring blankly at the screen not processing any information, and glancing over at the side of Frisk's face for as long as they thought they could get away with. If anything, picking something they've watched already was a strategic decision on their part. This way, they didn't have to scramble to pretend they've been paying attention the whole time later.

However, despite their relative interest in the movie, it was clear that Frisk was beginning to get quite sleepy. Their head hung heavy on their shoulders.

It was sort of endearing—Chara thinks that's the right word—seeing Frisk try their best to stay awake despite their clear exhaustion. They had spent quite a long time talking earlier, and Chara was famously more of a night owl than Frisk. They're sure that they woke up several hours before Chara did this morning.

…How strange, truly, that Chara's interest in Frisk had only increased the longer they spent together. The longer they spent thinking about it—staring at the side of Frisk's face—the more pieces seemed to slot themselves into place.

Chara had never particularly found any other humans—or monsters for that matter—to be attractive. Being as much of a misanthrope as Chara is (used to be?), their general thoughts about other people were often less than kind. But was Frisk was the exception to every Chara rule in the book, it seemed.

Frisk's enthusiasm really was infectious. They laughed at half of everything Chara ever said, even when they weren't making a joke, and for some reason it didn't feel demeaning. It felt nice. It made Chara want to continue talking, for the chance that they might hear it again. Their overabundance of energy didn't feel draining, and if anything it was actually invigorating. They almost seemed contradictory to Chara at times—making split-second decisions one day and being entirely indecisive the next.

As the semester had passed them by, Chara could feel the intimidation they felt melt away into something else. Something inviting. They wanted to know more. For every one new thing they learned about Frisk, they wanted to learn two more.

It wouldn't be so bad, Chara thought to themself, for them to always be there with me.

…

Is this what it means to like someone?

…

The room was quiet, save for the gentle soundtrack of the movie, and the occasional line of dialogue.

“Say, Frisk," Chara began, breaking the silence—their voice just barely above a whisper. "Are you busy next Sunday?”

“Hm? No… I don’t think so," they said tiredly. "Why?”

“My orchestra class is having a little recital that night, and I… have a solo piece in it. Well—not a solo solo, but a lead, of sorts.. If you’d like to, um. See that.” It was unlike Chara to stutter at all, but, well—you know already. Always an exception.

I really have changed so much, they thought. Not in a million years did they used to think they'd be both looking forward to performing on stage with other people, but also that they'd have people to invite to see them.

“Oh? Have I finally hit the fabled playing instruments for each other level of friendship?" they joked, perking up a little through their sleepiness.

Chara laughed, more gentle than they ever thought themself capable of being. Just plain friendship might've been the wrong word at this point, but Chara didn't correct them. Not yet.

“I suppose you have. So… I’ll see you there?”

“I’ll be there.”

They fell back into relative silence again after that.

It wasn't quite a confession of feelings. But it had felt like the right thing to say, in that moment.

Not long after their short exchange, Chara felt the weight against their side grow a little heavier. Trying not to move too much, they glanced over, and were met with Frisk's sleeping face, just a few inches away from their own—illuminated only by the low light of the laptop screen, and the dim yellow glow of the lamp on the nightstand. Their short curls brushed lightly against the skin of Chara's cheek.

Frisk was breathing evenly against their shoulder, looking like they were in the most comfortable spot in the world. Their lips were just slightly parted, and Chara couldn't help but wonder what they'd feel like under their fingertips.

Or maybe, what they'd feel like pressed gently against their own.

…

Huh.

The thought made their ears feel warmer. There was a strange stutter in their chest.

Maybe you do "just know," then.

Frisk tended to run a little warmer than Chara did, but they weren't an uncomfortable presence at their side. The bed was ever-so-slightly too little to be properly suitable for more than one person, even if Frisk was generally pretty small.

But, still.

…

They felt right, at Chara's side. Like that's where they were supposed to be.

Chara was technically supposed to be sleeping on the other side of this room tonight, but having Frisk sleeping on them felt similar to the feeling of having a cat decide to lay on you. It would be wrong to move now.

(And perhaps, selfishly, they just wanted to stay.)

Oh well, they thought, shutting their laptop and using their hand opposite of Frisk to lean it against the nightstand on the floor. Chara removed their glasses, placing them on the bedside table, and shimmied down into the pillows just gently enough to not wake them up.

They turned to their side just a little, looking over at Frisk. They could only sort of make them out anymore, with only the little bit of moonlight from behind the curtains and their lack of glasses. But Chara could still feel their warmth at their side, and hear the gentle sound of their breathing.

If not being alone means being with you, then, well…

…

…Maybe it's not so bad.

Blinking their eyes awake in the sunlit warmth of their dorm room, Frisk found themself feeling incredibly comfortable. They weren't a particularly restless sleeper—in fact they slept like a rock most of the time, but it wasn't often that they woke up feeling genuinely good rather than just fine.

They were tucked slightly closer to the wall than they normally would be, though. And what was that… next to them?

…

Oh no.

The original sleepover plan was for Chara to sleep in Clover’s bed. Despite their obvious distaste for Clover’s ‘cowboy-ass decor,’ in their own words, they were fine with it for just one night. Clover was a lot of things but generally, they were not unclean. Chara would live with sleeping under their ugly horseshoe-patterned comforter for one night.

However, apparently, this is not what happened.

Frisk had been a fool. They’d suggested that the two of them could watch a movie together, to end off the night and to let their newly painted nails dry. Of course, this little dorm room did not come equipped with a TV, so they’d of course be watching on a laptop. And they'd been sitting on the bed, under the covers, because the room was kind of cold, and there weren't many options on where to sit anyway.

Honestly, this was not planned. Frisk was a lot of things, including a person who had a big fat crush on Chara, but they were not one to purposefully orchestrate a scenario in which the two of them could share a bed together without prior knowledge on whether or not Chara was okay with that.

Chara was quite touch averse. They’d expressed that they had become alright and comfortable with Frisk touching them as they’d grown closer, but sleeping together (literally) was not on that list. Probably. They hadn’t asked.

And yet here they were. Awake, before Chara, who was asleep peacefully next to them, their faces mere inches apart.

Honestly, Frisk should’ve been given an award for not immediately screaming. They can put it next to the award for putting their foot in their mouth.

Wow, they’re beautiful while they’re asleep.

…

CREEP!!! STOP BEING CREEPY!!!!

Frisk was currently dying inside. This feeling, however, was not enough for them to tear their eyes away from Chara’s gorgeous sleeping face. Their normally sharp features were softened a little in their unconscious state, eyelashes splayed beautifully against their perpetually pink-tinged pale cheeks.

Frisk's heart clenched.

They hadn't really allowed themself to think about the more… physical aspects of a relationship with Chara, since they'd met them. Partially because they weren't all that concerned about it—Frisk really only wanted to do what Chara was comfortable with, and they were happy to just simply be around them—but also because, subconsciously, they knew that thinking too hard about anything past holding hands and sitting next to each other would probably not lead to anything good or productive. There's only so long you can spend with your crush without going insane when the only thing on your mind is kissing them. So, they'd ignored it.

…Until right now, that is, because God Frisk wanted to kiss Chara right now. The feeling was kind of unbearable, actually.

Their lips looked so soft. Frisk had seen Chara putting on chapstick a handful of times—was it flavored? Would they thread their fingers through Chara's hair? Or place their hands on either side of their waist?

…What would they taste like? Do they taste like chocolate—

—NO, NO NONONONONONO, now is NOT the time to be thinking about that, Frisk.

Next to them, Chara stirred just slightly, beginning to blink their eyes open. Frisk immediately turned flipped themself over onto their back awkwardly, trying to pretend like they hadn't been staring for several minutes and thinking about what it might be like to kiss them.

"Mm… Frisk? You awake?" Chara asked groggily, just barely waking up.

Oh GOD. Their sleepy voice was so cute. It was slightly raspy, and also twinged with the annoyance of being awake.

"…Yeah, I'm up," Frisk said, nonchalantly looking back at Chara as if they hadn't already been doing that.

Chara situated themself, pushing themself to sit up with a groan and reaching for their glasses neatly folded and placed on the nightstand. They reached for their phone, too, and opened it to check the time as they slipped on their glasses.

"…Need coffee," they said simply, seemingly unamused with whatever time they saw on the screen. They yawned quite loudly before speaking again. "Too early."

"…Do you wanna go back to sleep?"

Chara seemed to ponder this for a moment as they blinked their eyes more awake. They'd accumulated some serious bedhead overnight, and Frisk was trying hard not to giggle at it.

"…No, it's fine," they said finally, still clearly quite tired. "I'm up. How'd you sleep?"

"Good! Wait—" Frisk cut off, realizing what exactly must have led to them being here. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I totally fell asleep on you didn't I?"

Chara smiled amusedly. "Yes, you did. No need to apologize. I could have moved if I truly wished to. I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh, okay, yeah—um." WHAT. "Yeah. That's true. I hope… you slept okay?"

"It was just fine, though I could still go for coffee."

"…Want to go get some?"

"Oh, sure," they agreed, willing themself to get out of the covers and stand up. Frisk followed behind them, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Let me go to my room first and change."

"Oh, yeah, no problem," Frisk replied. "I'll… meet you downstairs?"

"It's a plan."

Chara gathered up their things, uncharacteristically tossing them into their bag haphazardly without much care for organization. It was clear they were still tired.

Beyond their original panic of this morning, Frisk was feeling more of a dull ache behind their ribcage now. Not nerves, but longing. They thought about what it might be like to wake up next to Chara again. And again, and again. Maybe they'd make coffee in their shared kitchen, and enjoy slow mornings together. Or maybe they'd learn how to make it just the way Chara liked it, so they could bring it to them in bed just as they blinked their eyes open.

"All good?" Frisk asked, trailing behind Chara as they pulled on a pair of sneakers by the door.

"That's all. Oh, and… Frisk?" Chara asked, turning around to face them.

"Yeah?"

…

They hesitated for just a moment, before seemingly gathering their courage. They pushed their bag up to their shoulder, leaving their hands free, and wrapped Frisk in a tight embrace around their chest. Before they could even have the chance to be startled by it, Frisk automatically returned the hug.

"Thanks. For yesterday," they said simply over Frisk's shoulder. It came out slightly awkwardly, like they might've been embarrassed.

Before Frisk had a chance to reply, Chara was already pulling away.

"See you in a few," they said, before quickly seeing themself out.

…

Oh.

…

Are we…?

…

…I'm gonna tell them. I have to.

With that resolution, Frisk busied themself with getting ready for coffee.

"Do I look stupid?" Frisk panicked, giving themself a once-over in the mirror. They pulled uselessly at the collar of their shirt, and ran a hand through their hair. "What are you even supposed to wear to a recital? Are the flowers going to be too much? Do I—"

"FRISK!" Clover shouted at them, interrupting their disastrous train of thought.

Frisk shut up, looking over towards their roommate. Clover stared at them for a moment, clearly waiting to see if they were going to continue their catastrophizing.

…

"…Yer lookin' just fine," they said, when it was clear Frisk was going to listen. "And flowers are normal for a performance. Just relax," they eased, plopping their usual hat onto their head.

"…Are you really going to wear that."

"I'll take it off before they start! Don't change the subject. What's the last thing I said to ya?"

Frisk exhaled an overly dramatic sigh. "Right, right. I'll relax. It's fine. I'm fine. Me and Chara are… good. I'm relaxed. I am."

"Yeah, yeah. Yer all good. Nuthin' at all to worry about."

…

"…I'm really gonna do it this time."

"What?!"

"CONFESS! I mean confess!" Frisk corrected, waving their hands around in front of them. "I'm going to tell them. After the recital."

"Ohhhh, okay. Ya got me scared for a sec there."

"I am not going to kill myself over a crush."

"Not before the crush kills you first!" Clover teased, grinning wildly.

"Cloverrrrr!"

"Sorry, sorry. I had to," they laughed, "But come on now, me n' Asriel have been tellin' ya for weeks that you've got nuthin' to worry about. It's practically set in stone at this point. It's gonna go great, Frisk. I promise ya."

"…Yeah. Okay. I got this," Frisk said to themself, taking one last look in the mirror. Clover could be very good at reassurance when they wanted to be.

"You got this!" they parroted.

"I totally got this!" Frisk cheered, even louder than the first.

Fake it 'til you make it, as Chara had told them the other night. It'd worked out okay so far, right?

The two roommates left the room shortly after, picking up Asriel by the entrance of their dorm building.

In the early evening nearing the end of fall, the weather was still surprisingly nice. Frisk was generally used to the lack of any real winter chill on this side of the country, but Asriel was still always surprised by it. The sidewalks of the campus were littered with brown and some still-green leaves, but the fullness of the many evergreen trees remained unwavering. Their leaves rustled gently in the breeze.

Frisk looked down at the little bundle of flowers in their hand, and took a deep breath.

…

They were all given little program booklets as they walked in. 'An Evening of Music,' it was titled simply—with a pretty photograph of fall flowers as the backdrop. The orchestra was notably pretty small, Frisk thought—flipping to the page with all of their little portrait pictures. Music was a relatively small department at their school, so it made sense. In any case, they could still hear lots of people rustling around on the other side preparing to begin soon.

The three managed to grab seats pretty close to the front, which Frisk was hoping would mean they'd actually get to see Chara.

"Would you ever get into music at school, Clover?" Asriel asked curiously, also flipping through the program.

"Nahhhh," they replied, sliding down and getting comfortable in their seat. "I play guitar for fun. I don't need to be all that good at it."

"Maybe we should start a band. I used to be in one, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. We'd have me on guitar, you've got yer choir boy vocals, Chara on the keys—Frisk you gettin' in on this?"

"I could play the triangle," they chimed in, laughing a little. "Or maybe be the band mascot."

"Perfect. It's all comin' together."

"Oh, but Kris would be so mad if I found another pianist," Asriel added, still lighthearted. "Especially since they and Chara are so similar. They might end up knife fighting each other."

"Well, we could get them in on this too! Chara likes the violin more anyhow, yeah?"

"Who has a violin in their shitty garage band?"

"Cool people," Clover told him, unoffended by the insinuation that their hypothetical band would be shitty. They crossed their arms behind their head comfortably, taking up too much space in their chair. "We could make it work."

There was a lull in the conversation for a few moments, before Asriel spoke again.

…

"…You know, Chara surprised me when they told me they were joining orchestra. Did you have something to do with this one too, Frisk?" Asriel asked, slightly teasingly. "I know they didn't start the class until a week into the semester."

"WHAT? Why me?" Frisk asked, startled by the question. They shouldn't have been surprised that he knew something was up, but they still felt like a deer in headlights for just a moment.

"You know why," he said blankly. Clover snorted a singular laugh at his bluntness.

"Um… maybe I did," Frisk admitted, slightly embarrassed. "But it's not like I forced them to! It was just… a suggestion. Since they seemed like they really like playing. It was one of the first things they told me about themself."

"Hey, I'm not accusing you. I just thought it was nice." He smiled fondly to himself, looking up at the stage.

"…Really?"

"Yeah, I mean—they do like playing violin. And they've gotta be pretty good at it, right? Having an important part in this show and all as just a first year. So it's nice that you encouraged them to do it, I think. They probably won't say it to your face, but I think they appreciate you doing that. Really."

"…I hope so." The thought made Frisk feel a sort of warm tightness in their chest. Not nervousness, necessarily, but something pleasant.

"I know so."

Shortly after their conversation faded, the lights started to dim. (And, as promised, Clover took off their hat.)

After a short introduction over the speaker, the thick red curtains were pulled to the side.

…

Chara was seated nearest to the front of the stage among the two other violinists, and they were close enough for Frisk to see their face clearly. The thought to shout and wave to them crossed their mind, but they quickly brushed it aside in favor of admiring silently.

Chara was always dressed somewhat formally, but today they were especially so. Their hair was in that half-up style they often favored, neatly combed and straightened. A black blazer was layered over the top of a tight black turtleneck sweater, paired with a matching long black skirt that fell a little above their ankles, and a pair of simple black heels.

"See something you like?" Clover whispered, doing their best to snicker quietly. Frisk elbowed them in the arm in favor of an actual answer.

The first song began with the piano, with the strings accompanying shortly after.

Even through all of their miscellaneous clubs and elective-hopping, Frisk was still quite unacquainted with the intricacies of playing music. When the orchestra started, they found they didn't have all the right words to describe the feeling of listening to it, but they did find it all incredibly soothing.

Mostly, though, they found themself completely transfixed watching Chara play.

The orchestral music felt like the soundtrack to the soapy romance drama that was Frisk's early college life—it was soft and airy and almost romantic—and with every swell of the music Frisk could feel their heart swell in equal measure. It was the kind of thing they could imagine themself waltzing to.

Chara would be leading, wouldn't they? Since they're taller?

…

I don't know if my heart could handle that.

They didn't pause for long between songs to begin again—just long enough for a short applause break—and time seemed to flow by quickly without Frisk noticing all that much. They could appreciate every member's contribution to each song, but their eyes remained trained on one spot only.

As the… fourth? No, fifth, song came to a close—every section flipping through their music sheets on their little metal stands, Chara stood and stepped a little closer to the front, in an open spot right next to the conductor.

"Oh! This must be Chara's, uh… what's it called?" they heard Clover whispering to Asriel.

"It's a concerto, when you have a soloist with an ensemble, I think," Asriel told them.

"How would you know? Ain't no way you were going to see the orchestra in the middle of gosh-darn nowhere."

"I can still know things, Clover—will you be quiet?"

Frisk let out the ghost of a laugh as the music started again.

…

Of course, the conductor is the one who leads an orchestra, but Chara really seemed to steal the show as soon as they took the stage.

Standing up there, Chara seemed completely at home. Head tilted against their violin, clothes freshly pressed and neat, shoulders pulled back and posture confident. They almost seemed to get lost in the melody as they began to play—eyes directed away from the stage and almost consumed up in their own little world. They had stepped away from the sheet music, but they seemed no less comfortable in their ability to perform.

Frisk might've joked to Chara before about getting to hear them play, but whatever expectations they'd had for it were nothing compared to this.

…They're so, so beautiful.

Seeing them up there, Frisk couldn't help but feel a fullness in their heart. It would be one thing to hear them play it all alone, but something about being here at an event they'd clearly worked so hard for all semester—and an event they might not have even been a part of if not for Frisk, no less—there was something special about it. There was something special about being invited here, to share in this moment.

Wasn't there something sweet, about being there for someone's important moments? About being someone that they want to be there? About sharing your life with another person?

About… being someone's someone?

The ensemble swelled for a few moments while Chara paused, and Frisk could just barely see them take a deep breath before they continued.

Frisk tightened their hold around their bouquet, and watched in awe.

They'd spent so long agonizing over their fear and anxiety about Chara—about how they'd fallen too much and they couldn't just treat their feelings as 'just a little crush' anymore. They just grew closer and closer, and it seemed to happen all without Frisk even really realizing it. Before they could catch their breath, they were tumbling down another hill.

But, watching them play… they realized something properly.

…

…I want to be Chara's 'someone.'

And that was the simple answer, wasn't it? There was more to it than just simply 'dating.' Chara had become a mainstay in Frisk's life, and they wanted it to stay that way. They wanted to go to all of their recitals, and greet them with flowers outside the concert hall lobby. They wanted to go out together and have fun, sure, but they wanted all the mundane things, too. They wanted the walks back to their dorms when the sun was gone and the crickets were singing, and the conversations in hushed voices when it grew late at night and it's well past time to go to sleep.

…

The music came to a close—with everything feeling wrapped up in a neat little bow. With all their strength, Frisk clapped their hands like they never had before. Beside them, they heard their friends clapping with equal fervor—and Clover whistling loudly with two fingers against their lips.

Almost like they could tell, Chara finally took a glance at the audience and looked right at Frisk. They smiled almost shyly, and waved a little with the hand that was holding their bow.

Effortlessly and automatically, Frisk beamed back at them with an overjoyed smile.

"…Soooo….what'd ya think?" Clover goaded, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the applause.

…

"…I think I'm in love."

Clover and Asriel decided to head back to the dorm on their own.

"Good luck, though I don't think you need it," Asriel encouraged with a wave.

"Go get em, tiger!" Clover told them with a friendly shove.

Frisk waited outside the performance hall for a while before the orchestra began filing out. Lots of people were waiting outside—all dressed up nicely with flowers in hand, excitedly rushing towards their sons and daughters and partners and best friends with excitement. The music was long gone, but the sound of their happy chatter was an equally sweet one.

The sight gave Frisk a renewed sense of determination. They took a deep breath.

…

"Frisk," they heard from their left side, and they turned to face the voice.

"Chara!" Frisk couldn't help but exclaim, rushing forward to wrap their arms around them tightly (they could do that now, right?) Chara returned the gesture, their touch soft and deliberate.

"Thank you for coming," Chara said tentatively, similar to the voice they'd used the morning after their sleepover. They pulled away slowly, releasing Frisk from the embrace, but still standing close.

"You were amazing!" Frisk told them, eyes definitely sparkling. "I, um, brought these for you," they added, holding out the flowers. The bunch was relatively small—consisting of a myriad of yellow blooms and just a few red roses, for good measure. They were tied together neatly with light green paper and a bright red ribbon.

Chara inspected them, taking them with both hands and holding them close to their chest. "…Are these from gardening club?"

"…Yeah," Frisk said with a shy laugh. "I had a little bit of help with them, haha…"

"…Thank you, Frisk," Chara told them, voice low. "They're perfect."

Chara looked down at the flowers in their hands, their features softened. They looked down at them like they held the entire world between their fingertips.

Now's your chance.

…

…

Say it!

…

“Say, Frisk," Chara said, just as Frisk was about to open their mouth to speak. Their mouth instantly skidded to a stop.

“Y-yeah?” they stammered out, whatever it was they were about to say dying on their tongue.

“I… please, um. I’d like to tell you something, before you say anything else.”

“Oh, um—yeah! Of course!”

Oh wow.

They had not planned for this. The imaginary plan that they had formulated in their brain was burning under the heat of their rapidly reddening face. The train of thought they were previously riding on had derailed and failed to make it to the station. It was too slow and it was falling off the tracks.

"Let's—" Chara said, taking hold of Frisk's hand without warning. "Come with me."

"O-okay!"

Chara led them just a little ways away—not far from the commotion, but just enough to give them the semblance of privacy.

"Frisk, I—" Chara said immediately, before cutting themself off. They let go of the hand they'd been holding. "Give me a moment."

"…Yeah, um… no problem."

They stayed in silence for a few moments. Chara looked away, then back again, then away again. Frisk just stared back at them, mouth just barely agape.

…

“Frisk. You… you’re so… ugh," Chara tried, clearly frustrated but seemingly not with Frisk. "The one time I find it difficult to use words. My major is completely and utterly worthless.”

“I—it’s okay. Take your time," Frisk told them, trying not to show on their face how hard their heart was pounding.

Are they really…?

…

“…Frisk.”

“Yes?”

“I… I moved all the way across the country to run away. I wanted to remain the same as I always had. I wanted to live in my little bubble of disdain for others until I could finally, finally, just be alone. But… then I met you.”

Oh damn. This was way more than Frisk had been expecting.

“…Chara?” they asked stupidly, not knowing what else to say.

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met. You’re the first person I haven’t wanted to scare away. You're the first person I'm afraid of scaring away. And… I didn’t always understand why. I’ve been trying to study you inside and out and I’m still not entirely sure I get it. You're the exception to every rule I've ever had about myself. But I am… inexplicably drawn to you, for one reason or another. Because you are… you.”

“…Yeah?”

Frisk cursed their hopeful little heart for the huge flutter it did just now. Unsure of what to do with their empty hands, they gripped the fabric of their suit jacket gently. If they had a tail, it would be wagging right now.

“I…” Chara started again, clearly trying to compose the best string of words they could conjure in their mind before they spoke. “…I spent a long time thinking about what exactly it is I feel for you. I’ve… never experienced anything quite like this before, and I didn't know how to even begin identifying it at first. But I know, now. I’m sure of it.”

Chara inhaled deeply, clutching the bundle of red and yellow flowers close to their heart. Their normally sharp, crimson gaze was softened as they met Frisk’s eyes with their own.

“I… really like you, Frisk. For lack of a better phrase.”

Oh.

…

Perhaps being hopeful wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

“…You do?” Frisk asked, their voice more disbelieving than it probably should have been. “Like, actually? For real?”

In all honesty, they should have seen this coming. There had definitely, one-hundred percent been something brewing between the two of them over the last several months. They would've needed to be blind not to see it—and even then that was questionable. However, having a crush can do stupid things to one’s brain.

“…Actually?” Chara replied incredulously. “Is that hard to believe?”

“No!” Frisk blurted, before thinking better of it. “Yes? No… I… uh… wow. I’m such an idiot. Chara, you know I’ve been trying badly to flirt with you for the past like, several months, right?” They decided to start with, for some reason, because their brain had been thoroughly cooked by now and they had no idea what to do about it.

“I have… been told that was what you were doing, yes. But no, I did not come to that conclusion by myself. My apologies.”

Okay, so that theory from way back was confirmed. Point one for Frisk.

Points? Frisk, your crush is literally confessing to you right now, what is wrong with you? What points could you possibly be earning?

Sometimes recognizing that you've won the game takes a moment to process.

"Aghhhhh….. I was so close this time!" Frisk complained as they finally began to process their thoughts, though they did so lightheartedly.

"…Close? With what?"

"I… um. I wanted to confess to you. Tonight. You beat me to it," they said, laughing stupidly.

"…Oh. I'm sorry."

“No! Don't be! I should have said something way sooner! I—Chara, I… I like you so much. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. I’ve been trying and failing to ask you out for weeks, for months—but every time I planned to say it I just… couldn’t find the words.”

“You… weren't scared of me?” Chara asked, seemingly having one of their own theories disproven.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, damn it—I was scared of being rejected," they admitted, wanting to be fully honest. "But not because you're scary, I was the one making myself scared. It's… I dunno, I was so confident at first and then I just… got so swept up. For months. Until it wasn’t casual anymore, and I didn’t know what to say anymore.”

Chara paused, processing this information. Their cheeks were always naturally twinged a nice shade of pink somehow, but Frisk was sure the color had darkened ever so slightly.

“Well… is there something you’d like to say to me now?” they tempted, a catlike smile forming on their face.

It was not lost on Frisk that, in a way, this was Chara allowing Frisk to ask first properly this time. And they were slightly embarrassed that they'd been beaten to the punch, and that they even had to do that in the first place.

But, more than anything, all they could think was finally.

“…Will you go out with me?” Frisk asked them, and it felt months of weight had finally been lifted.

“…Yes, Frisk. I would really like that,” Chara told them, their features softening into something warmer than Frisk had ever seen from them before. The sight seemed to steal the breath straight from their lungs.

“…Cool,” was all they could think to follow that.

Chara exhaled in what was very nearly a laugh, breaking eye contact with Frisk for a brief moment. When their eyes met theirs once again, they laughed some more. And then more. And then more, until they were doubling over like this was the funniest thing that had ever happened to them.

Infectiously, Frisk couldn’t help but start laughing too.

They couldn't stay embarrassed about missing their chance to confess first for too long, when they felt like this. It was… actually nice, they thought, to not be the only one doing the chasing. They felt elated. There was a glow somewhere inside their soul—warm and comforting. And maybe they were crazy, but they swore they could almost feel the same from Chara's. Most of all, though, they felt relief.

Sweet, sweet relief.

After several extended seconds of laughing at each other, Frisk wiped the wetness from one eye and reached forward with the other, taking Chara's hand gently with their own.

"…Chara, I want to be fully honest with you," Frisk said as they exhaled a deep breath, readying themself, "I… the longer I waited to tell you how I felt, it just… kept getting deeper. Until I was completely, like embarrassingly in love with you. And… I—I wasn't sure if I should say that word now, because this is new and I don't want to freak you out, but I also know that you would probably think that's stupid, and—"

"Frisk," Chara interrupted, the remains of their soft, giggly smile still on their face. "Close your eyes for me?"

Oh god.

If Frisk had some sort of underlying heart condition, they might've actually died just now.

"O-okay," they stuttered out, doing as they were asked.

They heard Chara take a step forward, and they could feel them inch closer into their space. They felt Chara's hand leave their own, and them reaching up to gently cup their face, Chara's thumb swiping across the apple of their cheek.

In the same instant their breath caught, Chara lightly pressed their lips to Frisk's.

It felt nothing like anything Frisk had ever felt before. Static buzzed underneath their skin, their heart flipped in their chest—it was like they couldn't breathe at all and had finally taken their first breath after nearly drowning all at once. They reached up, ghosting a touch against Chara's forearm, unsure of what to do with their empty hands. They could feel themself shaking a little.

And, just barely, Chara tasted a little like chocolate.

- - 

After just a moment, it was already over. Frisk fluttered their eyes back open on instinct. Chara remained just a few inches away from their face—their red eyes staring back at them piercingly.

"…Nothing you do is going to scare me away, Frisk," Chara told them, in a way that was vaguely threatening. "You have me now."

…

"…Oh wow," Frisk couldn't stop themself from blurting out, like an idiot.

Chara snickered, stepping back just a little and (mournfully) removing their hand from Frisk's face. Though, they reunited it with Frisk's hand, so it wasn't actually so bad.

"I'm supposed to be the scary one, Frisk. Don't forget."

What have I gotten myself into, they thought. Not in a bad way. In a great way, actually. There was nowhere they would rather be than right here, with Chara. They'd just failed to think about the fact that, if they can barely handle Chara when they're unintentionally flirting with them, how in the world are they going to handle it when they're doing it on purpose?

"…Right, yeah. Okay. Got it. Yup." They nodded their head for emphasis, trying their best not to melt into a puddle. "I think you might be the death of me one day."

"Only if you ask nicely."

WHAT!!!!

"OKAY! OKAY! I relent! I'm not ready to die!"

"Alright, but only because you said so," Chara told them, devilish smile still on their face. "Now let's get out of here, it's starting to get cold."

Frisk was currently the furthest thing from cold, but they agreed anyway, because they were about one more Chara flirt away from being dead on the ground.

They walked back to the dorm still hand-in-hand, the late hour finally bringing out the beginnings of winter chill, and it felt like a fresh start.

Chara was choosing to be merciful, when they ended the conversation they'd been having with Frisk. On the walk back they'd brought up the concert instead, letting Frisk gush about it. They had lots to say about it, Chara twice as much so, and their walk back to the dorms was full of easy conversation. The complete and utter shutdown Chara had caused them to experience a few minutes ago seemed to have subsided.

Unfortunately. They really were adorable like that.

Chara was feeling utterly invigorated. Like they had an entirely new area of interest for study. Frisk was so incredibly reactive, and Chara was already eager at the prospect of drawing even more of those wonderful reactions out of them. And the fact that Chara alone was the only one to draw that out of them?

…Well, they would save that thought for another day.

"How did you end up getting a violin solo as a first year anyway?" Frisk asked, as the two of them entered the elevator of their shared building.

"Well, you know I'm very persuasive."

"…What did you say to your professor," Frisk asked suspiciously, taking the bait and assuming it was some kind of violent threat.

"Just kidding!" Chara told them, laughing at their own joke. "I just asked nicely, honest. He seemed glad I was showing initiative. Then he just ran it by the other two violinists, who didn't mind. They were probably glad to have a break for a few minutes."

"Aww, that's actually sweet!"

"I know, it was disgusting." Frisk laughed at that one.

When they arrived at Chara's door, the both of them prepared for their inevitable tender goodnight-slash-goodbye-for-now moment.

…

…Or not.

"Wait just a moment, Frisk," Chara told them, turning around to unlock the door with their free hand. 

"And then he said to me—Oh, hey Chara!" Clover called out from where they were seated comfortably at Asriel's desk, arms thrown over the back of the chair. "Howdy, Frisk!"

"…What are you doing here."

"I dunno why yer still shocked to see me in your room, at this point," they shrugged.

"Chara!" Asriel said excitedly, ignoring their exchange. He stood up from his spot on the bed. "You were awesome out there!"

"…Thanks, Asriel," Chara said shyly. "I'm glad you came."

"Me and Clover were thinking the four of us could go grab something to eat to celebrate! Maybe at that place with the milkshakes. You in?"

Their recital really was a small thing. There would be many more to come, and they didn't think it was worthy of such fanfare…

…

Frisk, who was still holding onto their hand, squeezed gently. They turned to face them, seeing them smiling softly.

...

"I'm in," Chara told him simply. "Frisk?"

"Sounds good to me!" they chirped, bouncing on their heels a little.

"Sweet! Let's go!"

We'll say it's just for the chocolate.

The four of them headed off and out the door. As they made their way down the sidewalks of their university, Asriel was leading the way, Clover was animatedly continuing whatever story they'd been telling him previously, and Frisk…

…

…Frisk was still holding onto their hand.

…

"Say, Chara, will you finally let me pay for you for once?" Frisk asked them excitedly, looking over and smiling. "It's a special occasion, after all."

Chara looked up at the fall leaves for a moment, and then back to their friends. Back to Frisk.

…

"…Yeah, I'd like that."

For once, they felt like they were home.