Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Why is it that everyone on Marvel Rivals is such dogshit? Like c’mon, Mantis! Fuckin heal me! I’m the only tank in this whole team and not one of them can heal me!”

Your boyfriend, Landon, is talking at you as you dip yourself some of that crockpot rotel queso dip that suburban moms like to make. An orange puddle in the middle of your paper plate, surrounded by some chips and some celery from a veggie tray.

The staples of party food.

Your friend, Alphys, was having her annual summer kick-off shindig. She and her wife, Undyne, had a rather wide net of friends so these things were always so packed.

“I bet I’m the best player on there.” the large redheaded man continued, even though you weren’t really following his point.

He mostly talks to hear himself, you’re convinced. Not that you mind, necessarily, you enjoy things that fill that awkward silence that follows you around like a ghost.

Landon followed you like a lost puppy, not wanting to leave your side as you made your way through Alphys’ backyard.

Ducking between flexing sea monsters and anthropomorphic dog people, you and Landoned scurried towards the back of the party.

You set your plate of party foods on the steel mesh patio table and sat under the colorful umbrella popping out of the center of the table. Popping open the can of beer that you fished out from the bottom of the cooler, you reclined in the patio chair.

Watching as Undyne herself, dressed in her bright yellow bikini top and board shorts, played marco-polo with a gaggle of floatie-clad kids. A lanky skeleton in sunglasses was expertly avoiding the fish woman as she whipped around, looking blindly with her hands.

Looks like fun. Too bad you didn’t wear your bathing suit.

Instead, you’re wearing your favorite Iron Maiden shirt, tucked into a knee length leopard print skirt. Accompanied with ripped black pantyhose and your favorite black ankle boots. Your neck and arms are adorned with some thrifted assorted statement jewelry pieces, big and fashionable rings lacing your fingers. Your lobes, snuggly stretched with a pair of 00 gauge blackplugs in the shape of coffins. A silver bat ring hung from your septum, brushed with a bit of your dark cherry lipstick.

You wear your jewelry like armor and sport your various tattoos proudly, you have never been subtle about what you like.

Landon calls you his ‘big tiddy goth gf’....

Whatever that means.

Landon was beside you, downing a Mountain Dew as Genshin Impact took forever to load on his phone.

He wasn’t really a social butterfly, but you appreciate how he came with you to this shindig. It did take a bit of convincing, more than you care to admit…

You kinda wish he would just try…

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Alphys approaching you, a wide grin on her face.

“You made it!” She beamed, that little tail of hers flicking wildly back and forth. Dressed in a cutesy blue sundress with red polka dots.

“Duhhh. You invited me. What was I supposed to do? Ignore your cutesy Canva invitation?” You playfully tease with your dark lips in a pout.

“Okay miss Rude-and-Brooding!” Alphys crossed her arms, mirroring your playful manner back at you.

She tries to show you that she can be mean and scary, but it just never works! She’s just too… kawaii.

Okay.

We’re never going to say that again.

“Is this Landon?” she asked, looking from you to your boyfriend, who is too busy purchasing more Primogems in Genshin. Squinting in the bright sun, craning to see the screen.

He doesn’t say anything, just grumbles about how hot it is and how people invented AC for a reason.

“Uh..yea.” you try to remain positive. Or well, unjudgemental.

You’ve never been the type to judge other people because heaven knows you have your own flaws. Your own moments of bad judgement and accidents.

“G-glad he came.” She replied, and with that tone of voice you have no doubt that Alphys is judging him.

“Yea, had to tell him there’d be food.” your shoulders shrug with a practised ease, “Frisk’s mom make the dip?”

You’ve met Frisk once or twice in the eight months of knowing Alphys. A quiet little kid who seemed to know a little too much for an eight year old, their hands shaking with excitement as they signed questions about your life.

You never really liked kids, they were snotty and sticky, but you liked Frisk. You would offer to baby sit them sometimes if your house was more kid friendly…

“Yea. Tori is a wiz with a crockpot.” a voice you haven’t heard before speaks up. You’re snapped from your thoughts with a suddenness that nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s a fat skeleton, far shorter than you, dressed in an eye-burningly bright Hawaiian shirt over a tshirt, along with gym shorts. He’s in those dorky officially licensed Margaritaville crocs, complete with some various jibbets that look like limes or parrots. His white eyelights are large and he’s grinning like today is the best day since ascension day.

“Oh, there you are!” Alphys grinned with her cute buck teeth, “need something?”

“Hey, Al. Have ya seen Frisk’s sunscreen? The lil bugger is due for another coat.” His skeletal hands tuck into his short pockets

“Oh! I think it’s on the porch. I can get it!” she nodded before scurrying off, leaving you with the skeleton.

You recognize him as Papyrus’s older brother. You were expecting him to be…taller. Alphys has spoken about him on numerous occasions, building him up to be some big and impressive guy.

Especially given how tall Papyrus is.

Instead, you’re towering over him like Dwayne The Rock and he was Kevin Hart.

“Oh. Hey.” he greeted casually, standing in the grass before you, his skull nodding coolly. “How's it goin?”

“Not bad. Although, all this sun is kinda killer.” you shrug, “I’ve seen you around. Wasn’t it you who hid all the easter eggs and no one could find them?” You waggled your black-painted finger nail at him playfully.

“Mmmaybe.” he admitted with a warm chuckle, his skull almost ducking into his collar like a turtle, “They were hidden in plain sight. Not covered with anythin’.”

“Oh yea?” your brow arches, “Where did you hide them then?”

“The roof.” he snorts, still finding his spring holiday shenanigans hilarious. He laughs with an animation that you haven’t seen before, wiping a pretend tear from his socket.

You can’t help but laugh along with him, quiet and low. You don’t laugh much, but you really can’t help it! There’s something about his attitude.

Your laugh snaps Landon out of his game-trance. He takes a long and slow look over the skeleton. Scrutinizing every detail, from the margaritaville crocs to the Hawaiian over-shirt.

“‘Eat your girl out, or I will’?” Landon’s voice was incredulous as he read aloud the poor guy’s t-shirt. “That’s rather insensitive, don’t you think?” Your boyfriend’s nose wrinkled in that familiar disgust.

His jealousy was palpable, you couldn’t help but look to Sans to see if the skeleton would take a hint to get lost.

“What? I thought it was pretty good.” The monster didn’t seem to take offense to Landon’s clear distaste. “Don’t like it?”

“No. I don’t. I believe it’s rather objectifying to poor women. It is scientifically proven that it is unhygienic and rather unnecessary.” your boyfriend continued, his pale face going red.

You honestly thought the shirt was funny.

Landon has given you that same spiel when you asked if he wanted to go down on you-

“Oh.” the skeleton spoke simply at Landon, “sounds like, as the kiddo says, a skill issue. Not my fault ya can’t please a woman.”

Your boyfriend sputtered, bright red. Then he turned to you, expecting you to take his side.

You cannot help it.

You snort.

Landon pales as the skeleton’s grin widened. The pillowy soft white lights in his sockets growing slightly bigger.

“It is a really good fuckin’ shirt-” you quietly snicker, shoulders bouncing in a lightness you haven’t felt in years. It felt so good to laugh like this.

Even if you and your boyfriend are going to get into a spat about this in the car. Which will escalate to probably a screaming match when you get home, spooking your timid cat into hiding under your couch.

Lets…not think about that now.

The skeleton is pleased as punch as he laughs again, a real belly laugh.

How does a skeleton have a stomach? Is it a pillow?-

“Of course you would find that shit funny.” he grumbled, shooting you a reddening glare.

Sans gently elbowed you in the arm, an amused gesture. His voice dropped to a faux whisper as his eyelights darted between you and Landon.

“Listen lady, I’m not a medical professional like that House MD guy, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a rare case of what medical professionals have deemed ‘sense of humor’ cancer.” He hung his skull low, shaking it slowly, “I’m afraid it’s terminal. My condolences.”

Oh GODS. You howled with laughter so hard that you nearly fell back against the patio table.

Landon cannot believe this, it’s evident as he throws his hands up in the air.

You didn’t realize Landon was stomping off in humiliation, towards your car parked on the curb, until you heard the slam of the door.

Well that totally killed the mood. Your giggly bubble bursting with the cold feeling of guilt running down your spine.

XXX

The tense silence in the car ride home was evidence enough that your boyfriend was beyond pissed. Normally he bitched and whined about your actions, but this was a simmer rage you haven’t seen from him ever.

Not a word was spoken until you both were in your shared apartment, the door was shut and locked behind you.

Landon practically threw himself down on the couch, an all-too-familiar action from your rather childish lover.

“Landon, really, I-” you begin to speak. You weren’t laughing at him, and yet guilt nipped away at you.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” his voice raised, “He was clearly getting his grubby little hands all over you, in front of me!”

You blink, confusion in your mind. Was Sans really that chummy with you? You really doubt it, he was just making conversation.

“We were just talking, Landon.” you try to remain calm, an even voice that threatened to waver on your tongue.

“He was talking to my woman! I thought we went through this, don’t you love me?” his anger moved to something more…sad and bitter. Making that guilt stir in your soul.

He stood from his seat on the worn out sofa, stepping closer to you.

“W-well yea, I do, but-” you felt small. Despite being a big and bold woman, you tend to shrink into yourself sometimes.

Especially during fights like this.

“You’re my girlfriend, my jokes are the only ones you should laugh at!” his finger pointed at you accusatory. “That’s like…cheating!”

“I don’t think-” you try to speak again, and yet he cuts you off.

“Besides, you wouldn’t want to cheat on me with a skeleton.” the way he said ‘skeleton’ was laced with venom, “That monster is all bones, you need a real man. A gentleman who can provide the piece you need.”

By ‘piece’, you assumed he was referring to his cock.

Typical Landon, thinking about sex like its life or death.

“I love you, kitten, I just…want to keep you safe. From dangerous men and your own bad mistakes.” His hand was sweaty as it cupped your cheek. A kiss against your lips that tasted…foul against your tongue.

“R-right..” you muttered as you were released from his grip.

“Great.” he nodded, his smile returned as he looked you over. “What’s for dinner? I think I want pizza rolls.”

He toddled back to the couch, grabbing his game controller and headset, leaving you to deal with that shaky and gnawing guilt in your stomach.

Alone.

Chapter Text

It’s been about two weeks since the pool party, you awoke with the sound of your alarm. Rolling from your overly warm sheets, the bodyheat seeping from Landon was too much for you this morning.

9 am.

You have work today.

Something that actually excites you. Sets that fire in your soul, burning and raging.

You pop in your earbuds as you busy yourself with getting dressed. Some Meat Loaf to get your blood pumping as you shimmy into your best dark jeans.

You step carefully over Landon’s dirty laundry sprawled along the floor as you make your way to the bathroom.

Brush teeth, wash face, apply makeup. Your usual routine.

Except, your usual mint toothpaste tastes off. Making you gag as you brush your tongue. You examine the tube. It’s nowhere near its expiration date…

Weird.

You toss the tube anyways, unable to bear the taste of it. You’ll just run by the store later and get another one. Maybe something cinnamon flavored.

Before you leave, you cast a glance to Landon who is still blissfully asleep. He will probably sleep til noon before finally clambering out of bed, playing COD until you get home.

You remember when you met in college. You were an english major, he was a compsci student. He was really cute and dorky, spouting pokemon fun facts like a mating call.

You graduated a semester early and clawed your way into the publishing circuit. He dropped out and landed on your couch.

You thought helping your boyfriend to his feet would be good for you both, it would give you more empathy and he would grow as an adult…

It didn’t turn out like that. It has grown into a rather…awkward position for you.

XXX

The walk to the office was short. A small rented space in an office park downtown. The door was painted a soft sky blue and there was always a candle lit. Your desk was up against the wall, you set your bag on the black Kuromi desk chair before heading to the other desk in the shared space.

Astellus was a dark brown haired human woman, the hair in soft waves around her shoulders. A pair of large circular glasses perched on her nose, accentuating her blue eyes. Your best friend and work partner.

Astellus, or Stellie as you call her, was an author. Writing with a focus on romance and smut. She was currently writing a seaside romance between a farmer and a charming poet.

“The new chapter ready for me yet?” you ask, a brow raising as well as the corners of your lips.

She distracts you by holding up an iced latte from the cafe down the street.

“Maybe…but I did get you a PSL.” she grinned at you. “With whipped cream.”

Pumpkin Spice? In June? Be still your beating heart.

“An angel.” you speak, a serious tone, “You are seriously an angel. How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.” Stellie winked back at you playfully. You wouldn’t put it past her to bribe the baristas to put in an order of your favorite festive fall syrup.

You head back to your desk with an extra pep in your step, turning on your monitor and starting your work.

XXX

You are in the middle of editing a segment of a rainy chapter, in which the FMC and the MMC are cowering from rain under a bus stop. You’re adding in witty banter and soft touches. Tender conversation under the din of rain on a tin roof.

You barely realize it’s time to go until Stellie knocks your shoulder with hers.

“Earth to datura, come in come in!” she croons playfully, a familiar nickname. Floral and gothic, suiting you. It comes from a place of love with her.

“I’m going.” you growl back at her, no heat in your words. She knows that you’re not desperate to get home. You never are. Here is your safe space, your sanctuary of publisher emails and 3d printed desk toys.

“Don’t you have some special date dinner thing with your husband tonight?” you ask her, hoping she would let you stay behind in the office.

“Yep, so c'mon. Get that tush out the door.” she urged you with a smile. “Me and Red are going to grab some pizza and try to go rollerskating. It's a retro night at the rink.”

You stand, gathering your things and shoving them in your tote bag. A nodding hum as you listened to her plans. You liked Red enough, you supposed. He was iffy at first, bitey and pokey. But the two evened each other out for the best.

“You could join us, you know. You could bring Landon and it’d be a double date.” she smiled sweetly, waiting by the door with the keys in hand,

“Landon doesn’t skate,” or anything out in public really, “but I appreciate the offer.” your words are genuine as you walk out into the hall.

She gives you a long look. You know that look. That ‘i’m worried about you’ gaze. Making your guilt spike.

“We’re good, we’re good. Don’t worry.” you wave her concern off.

“If you’re sure…” she speaks in that too-tender tone, she turns to head out the main door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hun.”

With that, you’re left alone in the hallway.

XXX

You stand in the oral care aisle in the grocery store, staring blankly at the shelves of different toothpastes. You are worrying your lip ring with your front teeth as you think, rolling that clicker hoop around and around your bottom lip.

Spoiled for choice, it seems.

You don’t notice the stray 8 year old pushing the cart down the cramped aisle at lightning speeds until the cart bumps you from the side.

With lightning reflexes, your brain jumps and you speak. So eloquent and calm.

“Hey! Watch where you’re pushing that shit, asshole-” you expect some impatient old lady, having a vengeance against you for existing in her way.

In reality, it’s Frisk. That messy bob of brown, that mischievous gappy grin, and that signature sweater that they wear everywhere.

“I am so sorry.” you exclaim, feeling that gnawing guilt as you realized you cussed at a kid. Your head swiveled, searching for their furry white mother. Praying to the stars that she didn’t hear you swear in front of her kid.

Frisk merely giggles, nose scrunching with delight at your colorful words.

“Where’s your mom, snot?” you ask, crouching to talk face to face with the 8 year old savior of monsterkind.

‘Home’ their signs speak, a devilish grin that was too cute to be trusted. ‘I’m with my dunkle.’
Dunkle? What is a dunkle? You really aren’t sure at all.

“Traffic in the toothpaste aisle.” A familiar voice piped up from behind, “Is that a pothole or a cavity?”

You stand straight and turn to see Sans. The short skeleton was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie that read ‘I gotta see the candy first, then I'll get in the van. I'm not stupid’ in a stupid orange font.

He tossed a pack of hot dogs and a box of Kraft macaroni into the cart that had rammed into you.

“I’m guessing you’re the ‘dunkle’.” you cross your arms, shifting your weight with the playful cock of your hips.

“Guilty as charged.” he winked. “Your unfunny sidekick with you this time? Should I take off my hoodie so he doesn’t get pressed about it?”

Why is this guy so…charming? It’s weird how easily he can get you to laugh.

“No. Landon is back at home.” you breathe out a laugh, a slight smile on your black painted lips. “And I would prefer you keep your clothes on, thanks.”

“As you wish.” he shrugged before looking at the toothpastes on the shelf. “Seems like our reunion was mint to be.”

“That sucked.” you grumbled, trying to hide the giggle that threatened to leave your lips.

You look back to the assortment of toothpastes. You still have no idea what you want. You don’t want mint. You can’t stand the taste anymore. You need something new. Something sweeter?

Hopefully, this isn’t a metaphor for your current life.
You finally decide on one. One that is supposed to taste like blue raspberry.

Your hand collides with Sans’s phalanges as you both reach at the same time. His boney hand is surprisingly super warm as it brushes along your palm.

“Sorry.” “oops, my bad.” you both speak at the same time.
You have an awkward exchange of ‘no you go first’ ‘no you’ ‘i insist’. You finally snatch the toothpaste and have a step back.

“Have a good night, guys.” you say as you try to calm the Whimsuns in your chest. A fluttery feeling you thought was long dead.

“You too, giggles.” Sans grinned, giving a one-handed salute. Frisk waved with both hands vigorously.

Giggles? Is that his nickname for you now? That is NOT FAIR!

You gotta go.

You pay at a self check out and step out of the store-

It’s raining. Bad.

Shit.

Chapter Text

It was raining. Pouring buckets.

You really didn’t want to walk through this hell. But here you are. Trudging down the sidewalk towards your apartment.

Your boots squeak as they grip the wet pavement. Your steps were heavy, not caring about the puddles pooling on the concrete.

You practically jump out of your skin as the sky alights with lightning. A loud crescendo of thunder makes your heart race.

You pick up the pace and hide under a bus stop shelter. Exhaling a breath of relief as you have a bit of reprieve from the rain.

You try to ring your boyfriend, trying to see if he’ll come get you. But it goes straight to his voicemail.

“Greetings fair traveler, you have reached my personal phone number. I am currently crushing noobs so please hit me up on discord-“ Landon’s voice crackles over the speaker.

You want to chuck the phone into the street, wanting to see his contact picture be crushed by traffic.

You take a breath, calming yourself as you have a seat on the cold metal bench.

The gray sky above was marred with black storm clouds, swirling and braiding around each other like an angry nest of snakes.

You shivered, the rain had soaked through your clothes and drops trickled down your skin with gravity.

“You know what I always say? Wet it be.” You are once again surprised by the silent appearance of this skeleton.

He had Frisk on his back and was holding an umbrella over them both. Something out of My Neighbor Totoro. Sans had the toothy grin for it too.

“You have to stop with those.” You huffed, swiping some wet hair from your face. “You need to have those jokes vetted or peer-reviewed.”

“You seem to be enjoying them.” He chuckled with a dumb smile. “You waiting out the rain?”

“I guess I’m going to have to.” You sigh, “I live a few blocks away and the weather is only getting worse.”

You look back at the skeleton, the human child snuggled up and asleep on his back. Their chubby cheek squished up against sans’s neck vertebrae.

Adorable, really. You couldn’t deny it.

“Care for some company, then?” He asked, shifting to set the groceries on the bench and then moves Frisk so they are koala clinging to his frontside. He sits beside you.

“Al says you write smut all day. Is zat true?” He questioned playfully. You weren’t used to being asked questions about your life.

“It’s not just smut. It’s also the romance side of it.” You explain, shameless about your job. “I don’t really write it. I do the research and the editing and reaching out to publishers. Making sure Stells reaches her deadlines.”

“Hm. Sounds like you’re the lynchpin in the whole operation.” He shrugged, “That Stells seems pretty lucky to have you.”

“Well…I’m the lucky one.” Your gaze is on the flickering neon sign in the shop across the street. “She’s my best friend. She’s done so much for me. Working hard is the least I can do for her.”

His gaze on you was soft, those eyelights were round and pure white like glowing marshmallows.

“Hm, I bet.” He nodded, patting his hand on Frisk’s back in a paternal motion.

“Your turn to be interviewed.” You glance at him, locking eyes for a mere second before looking away.

“Me? You sure? I’m nothing special.” He laughs softly as he speaks.

“It's only fair.” You reply, watching a pair of cars drive along the road ahead of you. Wheels splashing into puddles.

“If you say so…I work at Ebott Tech University. In the physics department. I’m trying to go for tenure.” His voice is light. Distant. Like he’s reminiscing on old dreams he once held. “Sometimes I can’t believe I made it this far. I've made it on the surface.”

“Yea. The Ascension must have changed a lot for you guys..” your tone is feather light, hanging in the air like a petal in the wind.

His hand raked through Frisk’s brown hair, his savior. His kid.

“It did. Flipped our whole lives sideways, for the better…even being caught in the rain is a miracle.” He has this reverence in his eyelights that makes your soul twist in your ribs.

With that said. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad after all.

You really can’t help but smile at that.

XXX

The rain lightened up and Sans walked you home with his umbrella. Frisk was still fast asleep being carried by their dunkle. The conversation drifted along to favorite things.

You learned quite a bit about this guy. From his favorite color being blue to his adamant love for anything relating to ketchup. His favorite cookies are peanut butter and he takes his coffee hot and black.

In turn, he learned about you too. His smile never left as he listened to you talk. No interruptions or steering the conversation away from your topics. It was nice.

Very nice.

He waited til you stepped into the house, patient as you unlocked the door, before he vanished from sight. Just poof. Gone.

Huh.

You shed your shoes and move towards the bedroom for a hot shower and change of clothes. You felt heavy and exhausted and cold.

“Babe. What’s for dinner?” Landon asked from his usual seat on the couch. An empty bag of chips tossed at his feet.

You really didn’t feel like cooking or anything. You need to take care of yourself first. At least change from these wet clothes.

“Babe. Did you hear me? I'm starving.” Landon calls after you as you pass through the living room. “I haven’t eaten all day! Can you make chicken tenders?” His questions, no, demands bombard you like a tsunami and you feel like you’re drowning in this wet feeling.

“I just need a minute.” you reply, doing your best to keep yourself calm. You feel shaky. Nauseous.

Is this a panic attack or is your body trying to self destruct, you really aren’t sure. For all you know, you could explode in a strange case of ‘Inexplicable human combustion’. Leaving behind only your Doc Martens and a red splat across the carpet.

At this point, it’s all you feel up to doing anyways.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, stomach churning and your pulse racing. You empty its contents into the toilet and remain knelt there for a while. The cold porcelain against your sweaty, soggy skin. The drumming of Landon pounding on the door overshadowing the thrum of your heart.

“Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Chicken tenders, yes or no?” his voice calls, muffled by the door. The mention of food makes you wretch once again, gagging on your own tongue like a rotten taste. Like the toothpaste this morning.

The silence hangs heavy as you catch your breath, you can hear your boyfriend loitering outside the door. Waiting for you to pull yourself together and take charge. You shudder and curl into yourself.

You’re sick. You must be. Maybe the rain set it off, but maybe you were getting sick before that.

“I’m ordering doordash.” Landon grumbled, heading off back to his permanent indention in the couch cushion.

Once again. You are left alone. Sick on the bathroom floor.

You can’t call Stellie, she’s out with Red. You can’t rely on Landon, he would only guilt you further. You feel a sinking, dreadful feeling in your stomach.

Something is so wrong.

After several more minutes of heaving breaths and quiet as you feel the nausea pass. Your head stops spinning and you pull yourself to your feet. Shaking knees and heavy eyelids.

You finally shower, hot and steamy, savoring the scalding heat as you wash away the biting dread in your bones.

You don’t even bother with dinner, knowing that Landon probably didn’t order anything for you since you didn’t ask for anything. You really would rather not puke anymore so it's probably for the best.

You simply crawl into bed, wrapping yourself in a cocoon of blankets and familiarity. You blearily look at your phone, the screen is too bright so you have to dim it with the drag of your forefinger over the slider.

A message? From an unknown number?

It’s simply an image of the ‘Can I haz cheezeburger’ cat. Who’s elderly parent is texting you these ancient memes? It’s kinda silly…

There’s only one person you know who would be delighted by this relic of a meme. You text back, taking a shot in the dark.

-Sans?-

The number texts back almost immediately. You only saw the little typing bubble icon pop up for a second before the number answers.

-yup-

Mystery solved! Easy enough! You put his name into your contacts and add in the cheezeburger cat as the image.

-Al give you my number?-

-yup-

-You know that meme is outdated right?-

-yup-

His stupid, easy responses somehow make your sorrow lift. Before you can question him further, he shoots another shitty meme at you. A cat that looks like it’s laughing its ass off with the caption ‘Tell everyone on NYE that your resolution is to start washing your hands!’

You smile at that, just a bit. It’s gross and stupid, but it’s harmless. You feel a tug in your heart as you text a reply.

-Eww. Remind me to never shake your hands.-

-im hurt. truly hurt. I guess ill never lend u a helping hand-

You can practically hear his stupid chuckle as you read his message, that lame pun making your shoulders relax. You feel….not as alone as you thought. Eyes fluttering shut as you fall asleep, phone in hand.

You aren’t alone.

-gnite giggles-