Chapter Text
Kris lay in bed, pillow all scruffled and wrinkled from tossing and turning; using it as a sound blockade… their blanket pulled taut to their chin. The blanket was warm, encircling and comforting. It soothed their skin and nerves, the abundance of soft, fluffy fibers.
Nothing changed. Kris was in their bed, in their grey, monochromatic bedding. Meanwhile, an empty, cold and preserved bed is still placed parallel to their own.
No boy with crooked teeth, long floppy ears or big dumb eyes lay in it. It was still the same week, it was still Friday, nothing was going to change that, or ever would. The room held no one.
Toriel was already awake downstairs, yawning, messily shuffling about from the love seat she’d slept on, a blue blanket sprinkled with coarse white furr lay over it, a small oval of drool staining the arm and then to the kitchen, where she rubbed her head and squinted her eyes, a slight hangover clouding her frontal nerves.. The coffee pot was gurgling and puffing out clouds of steam, an empty mug awaited to be filled.
There was no real noise or clattering that awoke them, just their own circadian rhythm, what was usual to their sleep schedule. Their eyes fluttered open, light from the outside boring in, then immediately closed once more.
It would have been nice if they could have slept more, perhaps the entire day.
The sensation of loitering exhaustion and rarely discoverable comity sat within them, waiting to pass, to leave and let other feelings flood in throughout the day. A heavy sigh filled their lungs and fled through their nose. It was morning, the morning of the festival. A day of joy and laughter, people coming together as a community to put on display their talents and activities.
They could hear the clamor of preparation just beyond the window, in which the curtains hardly covered. They didn’t reclose them from the night prior.
Catti and Jockington very starkly exchanging conversation, a ladder skidding on the concrete, QC and her sister setting up their stands, talking of cinnamon rolls, recipes for next year’s festival, a weird parrot repeating its dish’s name, that being ‘octopi balls,’ and a series of strange warnings. The Catenheimers were eagerly spurring on their daughters with a genuinity difficult to quantify; and hooves. The pitter patter of hooves on pavement, continuous steps and clickings of.
It probably wasn’t Noelle. Carol set up the festival, she governed the entire thing, of course she would be the one awake and outside at this time. They curled into themselves, remembering her cold, predacious voice telling them that Noelle was looking forward to seeing them at the festival.
Their body achily rolled over, avoiding the sun that spattled into their room from above the leafy trees. With what strength they had in this exhaust filled morning, they gripped the blanket. A warmth spread onto their hands, they did not let the blanket go.
With this newfound darkness, they were allowed more time to keep their eyes shut, to dream and ponder about all the possibilities that were denied of them.
Maybe getting to make a new ‘thing’ with Susie, to bond with her more, to be able to say they weren’t doing anything bad, that Susie was their best friend.
She really, really was.
An overwhelming warmth spread over their body, eyes shutting tighter.
Susie really was the best person they’d ever met. She was so brave, she’d put her life on the line numerous times to save Kris, even to just appease them.
They wished they could be friends with her. To be there to react to her stupid pranks, even the nearing cruel ones. To play games together, to laugh about her time and time again failings to beat a boss, to draw things together, to be the one who matters most to her.
Not Noelle. Not the Soul. Kris.
Kris and Susie.
A heavy sigh left their nose, pulling the blanket lined with warmth higher upon them, covering nearly their entire face. They were avoiding leaving their bed, their room, avoiding seeing all the faces of those who encompassed their life.
They were simply marching down a set and cruel path, one which derived from the deepest of their intentions, their careless actions. One which forced them into complete and utter discordance, of themself, of Susie, of Noelle, everyone. It was all a falsehood.
The tired schlepping of Toriel’s slippers on the hardwood floor could be heard, dragging and dragging until she reached the stairs. The stairs creaked as she stepped up them and walked to their room. They huffed, covering their eyes with the palms of their hands.
Toriel's knuckles met the door threefold, then she opened the door to ajar, peeking into the room, Kris’s back was to her.
“Kris? Kris, are you awake?”
Despite their disdain at her presence, comfort spread through their psyche. A voice always tuned with affection, the twinges of vibrations no matter what, seemed to mean only the purest, even in situations of pandemonium.
Knowing Kris would not give any sign of indication even if they were awake, she continued.
“Susie is waiting outside for you,” she adjured. “You should go meet her outside, she seems very.. excited.” a crooked smile spread onto her furry face, the teeth that pressed her lips into a dip were revealed, all shiny and loving.
Toriel’s eyes bored onto Kris before her snout backed out of the room and she closed the door, returning the room to its previous state of solitude, and she left the upstairs compartment and walked into the lower.
It would be nice to hang out with Susie. Maybe they could share some candy.
They pressed their palms harder to their eyes, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes gently. They’d need to get up soon if they wanted to see her.
After a beat, they shifted their arm under their body and hardly pushed themselves up, their forearm digging into the mattress and resting their head on their shoulder.
It was so hard getting up on their own. Even with such a frill as of Susie.
Despite it all, they forced themselves up. It was a selfish and entirely precedented desire, but they could not deny it from themselves. They turned around, sitting with their legs hanging from the bed.
They were still wrapped in tiredness, their eyes still heavy and wanting to close. They remembered the time they and Susie slept on the couch together. She’d gone on and on about a non-stop, hardcore, inconceivable movie marathon, and then she’d fallen asleep the second the purple, strangely familiar dinosaur, used its wretched feet to crush a house. The memory was full of comfort. And noise. Susie was a very loud snorer. Her scales had been slightly cold and slick, but she still radiated an overwhelming warmth that had seeped into them and put them to sleep.
What a nice thought..
A hottish sensation spread through their chest, and their face, and their back. Soon followed a glowing of red, stemming from the left of their ribcage, showing brightly through their sweater.
Their lips flattened with embarrassment..They could not go hang out with Susie if this was the reaction even the thought of her pulled out of them. They tried to cover it with their hands, but the light of love simply bored through the gaps in their fingers.
Their eyes shut, avoiding the embarrassing sight of their own emotions, their own human emotions bleeding into the material world, as they were not meant to do. They kept their eyes shut tightly and leaned forward onto their knees, besting to steer their mind away from Susie..
Eventually, the shining light had faded away, lessening and lessening into being encapsulated by their soul. The abashment and fluster still lingered regaurdless.. Their interest, their want for Susie was almost asphyixiating in the way it was really one of the only pleasures they were still allowed.
They moved their arms from under their chest, practically holding their heart in; to rest their head in the crease between their upperarm to forearm, curling their hands to rest on the top of their head. Their fingers webbed through the locks, and suddenly gripped with what might they had, and yanked their fists full of hair away from their head. A hollow stinging pain flooded their scalp and they flooded their lungs with air, letting go of the strands. Some stayed disconnected in their hands, spindly and twirling around their fingers and over one side of the planes of their hands to the others.
With an undefined reluctance they stood up, looking at the ground with impassivity. They stood there for some time, unmoving and unthinking before they eventually left their room.
Toriel’s humming and the sound of her brushing through the fur on her ears thrummed through the atmosphere. They stopped at the cactus, staring at the blooming bud of a pink, overtly layered flower. Reaching up, they prodded a finger into a cactus tine, then swiftly pulled it away.