Second Chance

12 -

"Don't pour the wet ingredients in yet, my dear." Toriel hummed, prepping the baking pan. She coated it in butter, tapping on a thin layer of flour.

"Right, I need to slowly fold them in, right?", Frisk asked.

"Indeed. You're a fast learner."

"Well, you're a good teacher!"

Toriel smiled. "I'm glad at least someone in this house wishes to learn my secrets!" She stated the latter part of the sentence a tad louder, so the two on the terrace outside could hear it as well. She was met with two annoyed groans.

"You think they're ever coming back inside?", Frisk joked.

"Asriel, of course. Chara... I think we might need to put up a tent for them."

The human set the bowl of mixed ingredients gently down on the counter. They glanced up at her. "Toriel, are you... okay?"

She winced. "I am. I'm okay. Just... disappointed." She sat the pan down on the counter, wiping off the powdered flour off of her paws. "Chara's an adult. They can make their own decisions, but it does not mean I must endorse them."

"I'm not happy about it either...", Frisk mumbled. "I get that an addiction is an addiction, but I've already seen the type of stuff Clover goes through with their lungs. Who knows if Chara's body can even handle it?"

"Frisk, my child..."

"I know, I know. I'm doomthinking."

"Doomthinking...?"

"It's-" Frisk pouted. "Just a way of expressing I'm being negative."

They inhaled a sharp take of breath as they felt a hand gently nudge their head.

"Stop being negative."

"Amazing. I'm cured of all sad thoughts by you being mean to me, Chara."

"I'm not being mean to you."

Frisk turned around, facing Chara. "Super mean, actually. You're mean and... Uh..."

"And what?"

The shorter human snickered. "Stinky."

Chara frowned, wrapping their arms around Frisk's waist. "I'm not stinky."

"You smell like smoke."

"You like the smell."

"Shit-"

"Children.", Toriel scolded. "In front of the cake? Really?"

Chara's eyes darted down to the batter, which laid in the pan. The warm smell of cocoa powder traveled through the kitchen. "It's not baked yet."

Their mother blinked, confused. "Wha-? What does that mean?"

"It's not in front of the cake if it isn't baked yet."

"I meant-", she paused, dipping the nails of her paw in the bag of flour. She splashed it at her child's face. "Get a room!"

"Mom-!", Chara protested, wiping the flour off of their nose with the sleeve of their sweater.

Frisk snickered. "Now it looks like you've snorted. Wow, smoking and drugs? You're out of line, Chara."

"They're a wild child, huh?", Toriel giggled.

"I'm going upstairs.", they grumped.

---

Frisk yawned, as they mindlessly scrolled through the reels of their Instagram page. Each second their eyes grew more drowsy, as the weight of their head sank further into Chara's stomach, nails scratching further on Frisk's scalp. They giggled at the video, showing it to Chara. An exhale of air left their nose, which the other deemed a win in their books.