Money, Jokes, and War (Sans x Reader)

Chapter 24

EDITED 

Waking up the next morning should not have been as difficult as it was. Your entire body felt like lead as you tried to stretch your limbs. All the while you were silently hoping you had slept in past noon so you didn't have to see Sans again. There was no conceivable way you had told him any of that information, let alone telling him that you were working for your father. He knew more than he was letting on, and you didn't want to spend your day fretting over every little action Sans did.

You sat up to check the time on your clock, and with an overdramatic groan you launched yourself back onto your bed. It was just past ten in the morning. The devil on your shoulder encouraged you to go back to bed and ditch Sans. Why bother yourself over something as petty as getting a phone? With him of all people? Plus you'd risk being kicked out, and your parents still have control over your bank account...

God you're an adult you really need to get your own life in order.

You sat back up and walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for the day. Hopefully your parents would still be out of town when you got back home from the mall. It was Sunday, and god forbid they realized you took one of the cars out for a spin. After brushing your teeth and using the bathroom, you set off to the living room.

Mark had the news turned on and was working his way through a massive plate of eggs. He had told you years ago that eggs were full of protein and therefore a must for the first meal of his day. He must've cracked half a dozen for the pile of scrambled eggs on his plate, which was thankfully paired with an apple and what appears to be pre-workout.

"G'morning," You spoke as you took soft steps to the kitchen to grab something for breakfast. Mark managed to give a greeting back through his mouth full of eggs. You yawned as you grabbed a bowl from one of the many cabinets, accompanied by a swift turn so you could grab the milk and a box of cereal from behind you. You and your father were the only one who ate the sweeter brands of cereals, or what your mom considered sweeter brands.

You had grabbed the honey nut cheerios box considering it was almost empty and it would be better for you to just finish it off. The box was next to an opened cookie crisp and a closed box of reeses puffs. In your haze of sleepiness you spilled some of the cereal as you poured it. You pinched the few pieces that had fallen and ate them quickly, five second rule and all.

You grabbed a smaller spoon from a drawer and took it out to the living room. You sat opposite of your brother on the couch and snatched the remote as you balanced the bowl in your hands. He made a move to grab it back, but you'd already switched to something more interesting than whatever lie the news was spitting right now.

"That's fucking rude." Mark spat at you, to which you just shrugged. At least you had the decency to pick a show that he didn't hate. The pair of you finished your meals without talking to one another. He grabbed your bowl as he walked to the kitchen and cleaned your dish for you. Brothers am I right?

"Thanks Marky!" You called and raced to your room. He always made a big show of hating the nickname, but it was obvious he found it slightly endearing. Even though you didn't turn around, you could practically see him flipping you the bird.

Time passed slowly as you got ready to head out to meet up with Sans. Silently thanking your past self for forgetting to return the keys to your parent's room. Getting ready might've just been easier today because of how exhausted you were. It seems like an oxymoron, but it meant that you did barely-- if any-- makeup, skipped the necklaces and bracelets, and threw on the most half-assed outfit you could have grabbed.

You laughed to yourself in the mirror as you came to the conclusion that you looked like Sans. The F/C hoodie paired with dark grey sweatpants and the same pair of converse as yesterday made you feel like you should be throwing puns into everyone's face. You grabbed your wallet and your mother's keys off your vanity and threw them into the pouch of your hoodie. Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you hoped you'd be inconspicuous enough for your brother not to notice.