Severed Ropes, Wires Torn (ErrorInk)

Chapter 4 - hoping he'll lean into me

Ink had been recovering... about as well as somebody could recover.

While it took him a... while... to understand that no he should not be walking until at the very least his knee recovers from its dislocation... Error thought he was doing pretty well, prior multiverse-shattering events considered.

Ink didn't even seem...upset or even confused or any sort of usual negative emotion that would ordinarily be displayed after such an event.

It confounded Error, him with his excitement and his determination, It did... something ... to him... and that confused him beyond all belief because it was the total opposite of what he was used to feeling around him.

He... didn't know what to think...

.

..

Error had been busying himself with sewing or knitting, answering Ink's incessant questions, tending to Ink's injuries and other miscellaneous yet connected tasks. His whole life right now was... Ink-centric as of late.

It was...nice.

It was nice to have somebody to talk to who wasn't a group of disembodied voices screaming in his head about murder and destruction until it was painful and throbbing, and instead, an actual person whom he could have real back and forths with and wind up and just have around.

It was getting a bit stuffy in here, though, so Error decided to. You know. Go out.

He just wanted somewhere peaceful he could stay for a while to zone out. Or knit. Whatever came easiest.

'...Where are you going?'

Ink watched him fill a rucksack with various knitting supplies with interest,

'A bloody knitting convention?'

Error spared him a glance as he pulled the drawstring tight and slung it over his shoulder.

'Why'd y-y-y-you care?'

'Because. I wanna go! S'boring here all alone!'

Error mocked disbelief,

'W-wow, even after I put-tttt all these enrichments out fff-for you?!'

He swung an arm around the little grown-up pillow fort they'd concocted. Decked out with a wide range of things such as:

- a pile of pillows shielded behind a thin sheet that acted as Errors bed. (There was only a sheet there because Ink wouldn't stop either trying to talk to him or fixing him with an unflinching dead-eyed stare whenever he got bored.)

- Another pile of pillows but this time parallel to where Ink's den is (and Errors beanbag, he mourns its loss every day). It's also where Error has found himself spending the most time.

And of course,

- random assortment of supplies and knickknacks kept in the corner.

What's not to love?

Ink pouted at him, which really shouldn't have swayed his decision as much as it did,

'I'm not a hamster! Let me go with you! Pleeeaaase??'

Error stared at him for a while, feeling this close to rebooting, before responding in a normal average and ordinary tone,

'Fine, sssss-sure. But th-there's no knitting con-conv-conventions, I warn you.'

Then he turned away to summon a portal to avoid gazing upon the joy and appreciation that had no doubt shown itself on the other skeleton's face.

'Yesss!'