You Can Never Go Home

ꜱᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴ

As you extended your hand to Sans, the tension in the room slightly lifted. The skeleton's hand was cool to the touch and held a peculiar warmth, and if your eyes were closed, you could've easily mistaken it for a human hand. While his grip was gentle, the intensity of his gaze didn't waver, almost as if he was trying to stare into your very soul with those bright white eyelights.

"Nice to meet you, Sans," you replied with a friendly nod, trying your best not to show your growing uneasiness. Sans's grin appeared to grow ever so slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eye sockets. When it was obvious he wasn't going to say anything, you decided to break the ice further. "I hope I'm not intruding or anything. Papyrus and Frisk were kind enough to help me."

At the mention of his brother, Sans's expression relaxed, shifting into his normal laid-back demeanor as he released your hand. "nah, no problem. pap's got a big heart, can't resist helpin' folks in need," he explained, his grin softening slightly.

Almost as if catching himself, he straightened, his smile tightening once more. Despite his carefree tone, you knew he wanted nothing more than to throw you out, and honestly, you couldn't blame him. You would be wary, too, if the roles were reversed.

"HUMAN, DINNER IS READY! YOU'LL NOW HAVE THE HONOR OF EATING THE MOST DELICIOUS TACO SOUP MADE BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS HIMSELF!" Papyrus declared proudly, breaking the growing tension as he effortlessly balanced a large pot of soup in one hand. You relaxed at the sight of the taller skeleton, shooting him a carefree smile.

"I can't wait to try it." Papyrus beamed at your response, his tall form brimming with enthusiasm. Sans continued to watch you, his bony face contorting into something comparable to confusion, his eyelights flickering down to your chest.

"YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED, HUMAN!" With a flourish, Papyrus set the pot of soup on the dining table, your stomach already growling at the tantalizing smell of the dish wafting in the air. As everyone gathered around the table, you noticed Sans had taken the seat across from you, his grin still firmly in place, even as he continued to stare at you.

Frisk settled down next to you, excitement shining in their brown eyes. True to his word, Papyrus served you a heaping plate of soup with an elaborate, twirling motion. It was almost like watching a master chef at work; you couldn't help but be impressed by the presentation. Normally, you would've waited until everyone at the table had been served, but the smell, combined with the grumbling of your stomach, was too tempting to resist.

You took a bite, and the explosion of flavors in your mouth was beyond anything you could have expected. It was as if Papyrus had captured the essence of deliciousness itself in his cooking. You couldn't help but let out a delighted sigh.

"Wow, Papyrus, this is incredible," you exclaimed, your taste buds dancing with joy as you scooped another spoonful in your mouth. Frisk hummed in agreement beside you, stuffing another bite in their mouth.

Papyrus practically glowed with pride, a light orange bush dusting his cheeks once more. "NYEH HEH HEH, I'M GLAD YOU ENJOY IT, HUMAN! THERE'S PLENTY MORE IF YOU WANT SECONDS." The meal continued with cheerful conversation, consisting of Papyrus talking about his training with someone named Undyne, to sometimes shifting to Sans's laziness at his job.

You were content just listening to everyone else, too busy stuffing your mouth to add to the conversation. Papyrus's infectious enthusiasm remained as endearing as ever, yet Sans's watchful gaze fixed upon you throughout the meal, and a growing sense of unease began to settle within you. Despite your best efforts to appear unbothered by Sans, a sliver of anxiety broke through. It was like he was waiting for you to mess up. The lively chatter gradually faded, replaced by the clinking of utensils and a thick silence.