||Lies & Desires.||

His Nightly Apology.

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Sans was a drunken mess. A mess you simply couldn't clean with ease.

Did he regret what he said to Frisk? No. He felt no remorse. Yet, the only pain he felt was from his brother. His dear younger brother that he loved dearly. Trying to protect him as best as he could, cause that was his job ever since they were little.

Wings wasnt always around in their younger days. He was too busy trying to provide for them as best he could. And Sans would never be angry with his older brother about that. He appraciated everything Wings did for them.

Yet, deep down Sans hated the fact that he didnt do anything for his brothers. It was like he was useless. And for awhile, that got under his skin. So he made it one of his purposes to protect his younger brother Papyrus. From bullies and the underground's cruelness. And he did decent job for a while. until they all grew up that is.

He couldnt protect Papyrus any longer. The world hit his younger brother straight in the face and all Sans could do was stand and watch.

Maybe, just maybe that was why his anger got the best of him. Once he saw Mettaton try to inch his way closer back into Papyrus life .. after everything he already went through. Sans couldnt help his brotherly instincts to protect him once more.

But, that wasnt his job anymore. He had to face that fact. So again, he was useless.

Or .. so he once believed.

He only cared about his family for majoity of his life, yet, once he met you its like he had a different purpose. A real purpose.

But of course he fucked that up the first time the two of you met. It's not like he couldve helped it .. your soul and his were like a high he never felt. Causing him to not be himself.

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And there he was. Trying to get his ass back home, while trying not to practically get killed in hotland. It wouldve been an easy kill considering his state. But nowadays he had something to live for.

Taking his famous shortcuts, he was still practically lost. Plus, he looked like a fucking bum since hotland was way too high in tempatures for Sans. So he sadly had to take off his overcoat and tie behind.

He had no sense in direction with how much he drowned himself in Alcohol .. and stars know what else. But the one problem he did have was his magic. It never worked quite well under the influence. So he knew if he teleported, he'd have no control of where he ended up.

So Sans thought hard. Trying to think about Snowdin, and his home, and —

Shit.

He thought about you. And when his sockets opened again he could see he was in front of a door. He was, strangely confused with the surroundings. But his soul definitely wasn't.

Sans soul pounded within his chest, inching closer towards the door like there wasn't something behind it.

Like you ..

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