Play With Your Soul (Undertale x Male Reader) [Season One]

chapter four

[breakfast]
A/N

I'm really getting into this, so I put a lot more effort into this and also Lucy isn't shy I change it that she looked up at you and not shyly looked at you and chapter 3 so yeah

[Y/N] your name/first name
[L/N] your last name
"Speaking"
(Thinking)
*Sound effect*

Location: [Y/N]'s room]
[7:26]

[NO POV]

[Y/N] tosses and turns restlessly in his bed, the faint murmurs of "no" and "I had to" escaping his lips, revealing the internal conflict that has haunted him for years. Suddenly, he bolts upright, his heart pounding in his ears, the frantic rhythm echoing the chaos within. He looks down at his trembling hands, feeling not regret, but a profound disgust for the choice he made long ago.

In that moment, the darkness surrounds him like a heavy shroud. An unsettling sensation creeps over his skin, as if the memories of his past action have materialized, crawling like an insidious weight upon his back. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to dispel the revulsion that rises within him. In that stillness, filled with contempt rather than remorse, he grapples with the burden of his actions, caught in a tempest of his own creation, yearning for a solace that feels eternally elusive.

[[Y/N] POV]

With a final, shuddering breath, you whisper the words, “I had to,” before looking up to find a floating black guitar at the foot of your bed that looks so familiar. It appeared almost hereal, its dark surface absorbing every surrounding ray of light.

A/N
{{This but fully black, so no color}}

But when you close your eyes and rub them, hoping to dispel the oddity before you, the guitar vanishes, replaced suddenly by Lucy.

She regards you with a neutral expression, and for a brief moment, you find yourselves locked in a silent exchange. “Um, hello-” you begin to say, but she cuts you off with, “Breakfast is ready,” before turning and leaving the room.

“Okay?” you reply, slightly bewildered, but you brush it off, attempting to forget the haunting dream and the puzzling guitar, dismissing them as figments of your imagination. Tossing off your blanket, you rise from your bed, stretching to ease your achy muscles as you shuffle towards your bags. You rummage through them and pull out an outfit that, by your own standards, is delightfully simple: a long-sleeve shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, paired with a crossbody bag to hold your a number of things like your wallet though it disappointingly lacks cash. You plan to explore the city after breakfast, eager for adventure.