In the dimly lit corridors of the Underground, where the shadows seemed to dance with a life of their own and the air was thick with the musty scent of earth, Sans stumbled upon an unexpected sight: Chara, standing amidst the darkness with an air of mystery and intrigue that drew him in like a moth to a flame. Chara's presence was like a ripple in the fabric of reality, sending shivers down Sans' spine as he approached cautiously, his eye sockets narrowing with curiosity and a hint of wariness. The tension in the air was palpable, crackling with the unspoken question of why Chara was here, in this place of all places, and what they wanted from him.
As Sans and Chara exchanged hesitant greetings, a strange sense of familiarity washed over Sans, as if he had known Chara for far longer than the brief moments they had spent together. Yet beneath the surface of this familiarity lurked a sense of unease, a nagging doubt that whispered in the back of Sans' mind, urging him to tread carefully around this enigmatic figure. Frisk's arrival, their footsteps echoing softly in the cavernous silence, only served to heighten the tension between Sans and Chara, their presence a reminder of the delicate balance that hung in the air between them.
As Frisk attempted to join the conversation, their words laced with the innocence and curiosity of youth, Sans couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy gnawing at him, a seed of doubt planted in his mind as he watched Chara interact with Frisk. It wasn't that Sans didn't trust Chara – far from it – but there was something about the way they spoke to Frisk, a familiarity and ease that Sans couldn't help but envy. He wanted to be the one to make Chara laugh, to share inside jokes and quiet moments of companionship, but as he watched Chara and Frisk engage in conversation, Sans couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow on the outside looking in, a spectator to a bond that he didn't fully understand.
