Red Eyes [Chara X Reader]

39: A very bad idea

Frisk

I've loved animals all my life. From the tiniest mouse up to the most giant elephant. 

Fish and deer and squirrels, all manner of critters whether it be fur or scale I love them. 

I wanted to be a conservationist, I still might once the monsters don't need an Ambassador. 

But despite this, I've always been afraid of dogs. I loved them, just the same as anything else, but I was terrified of them. 

Even before the accident that took my parents from me..

Anything bigger than a dachshund or a chihuahua stoked some primal fear in me that I could never quite explain. 

The same kind of fear a kid feels when left alone in a pitch-black room.

The way their teeth are always stained by saliva, ravenous and waiting. 

Or how their senses would make it practically impossible to escape if they don't want you to. 

This fear only worsened once I saw what they could do. 

What they could really do. 

What a starving dog could do to a person. 

How a pack of slavering hounds could... dismantle a human in minutes. 

I'm not really sure why they didn't kill me too.

I was certainly crying loud of enough for them to hear me. 

The next thing I knew I was in an orphanage or a halfway house or something like that. 

My only companions a white teddy bear and a crippling fear of dogs. 

I stopped paying attention for a long time after that.

I minded my manners and talked just enough to get people to leave me alone.

I was moved from house to house to house to house. 

I'd say I lost count, but I never kept track to begin with.

 Eventually they settled on a school teacher. 

Momma Gloria was a plump woman of 50 or so years with no children of her own.

And she loved me as if I were her own. 

It was hard at first, for the both of us I imagine. 

Thinking about it now still makes me smile.

But she was patient and kind and never once made me feel wrong for my fear, or for my panic attacks or for anything else that came with losing my parents at 5. 

I'm proud to call my self her daughter. 

Eventually she brought me into school. I never liked other kids. 

They were loud and they moved too much.

They moved in groups. 

In packs. 

And when they yelled it sounded for all the world like barking. 

But I had my momma so I was okay. 

And of course, there in that colorful little classroom there was a boy.

Tall for his age with [h/c] hair and [e/c] eyes. 

He looked bored, tired even. 

Exhausted by his exuberant peers. 

And there he met my gaze. 

For just a moment I saw the spark of interest that would soon become a flame. 

He was quiet, not in the same way I was but it was relaxing. 

A welcome relief in the sea of noise that was a kindergarten class.

I suppose it was the same for him. 

He smiled, but it was wrong somehow. 

Looking back on it, it was awkward and forced, a smile only there because 'That's what you do when you meet someone new.'

The awkwardness of the gesture made me want to laugh but I didn't want to be rude. 

I waved politely and smiled back, likely just as awkward.

And there in that moment was when our fates were sealed. 

As he'd come to tell me a million times over, that awkward grin made me different. 

And he'd always liked things that were different.

Such a weird way to word it! 

But that's just how he is I suppose.

It wasn't long till we were having sleep overs. 

At first over my house. 

But eventually once Momma Gloria had the measure of his parents she saw no reason to keep it that way. 

So when he swung open his door and proudly boasted that he would make sure it was the best sleepover yet, I was more than a little excited. 

That was until I saw the happy husky, Sif, come around the corner, tail wagging as he eyes us. 

My voice hurt for days after. I screamed myself hoarse when I saw the poor pooch. 

I had to go home of course, I couldn't be in the same house as that thing. [Y/n] was pale with confusion and panic, fretting over me till we saw each other the next day. 

Momma Gloria gently explained to him that I had what they call "Cynophobia" or a 'clinical fear of dogs' as she put it.

"But Sif is the nicest dog around!" He promised. 

"That ain't the problem, baby." Momma said. 

He frowned and crossed his arms in contemplation. "Oh!" He said in realization "Have you ever heard of expashure thereapy?" He asks excitedly, butchering the words. 

Exposure therapy. 

It's proven to work on some phobias in many cases. 

I'm rather blessed to say that it worked. 

For the most part anyway. 

And with that said..

"I think I have a very bad Idea." I tell Sans.