Echotale - Thought So (G!sansxFrisk)

Gun Shot

*Frisk's POV*

Grillby's flames flickered sharper then usual, his image seeming to tremble with the flames that danced on his body.

Without needing to ask, G and I could tell he was nervous when Grillby rushed over to us in the hallway, his blank emotionless eyes full of a quiet risk that was crackling his flames.

I caught myself wondering how this guy sneaked around so easily, with his flames making a gentle flicker of music that seemed to weaken his image instead of enhance it.

"Grillby," I said softly, wondering if he was here to collect the money I owed him before G and I left.

That softened my mood into a sizzling regret that I tried to ignore, just focusing on Grillby's flames that sputtered, as if he was trying to keep them neutral. 

"You two need to leave now..." He said in a quiet voice. Though unlike his usual one, this voice was tense with straining worry that slipped into each word.

He sounded afraid, and I tried to focus on him instead of the question that pounded once more, "Sweet dream or Nightmare?"

Continuing to ignore it and concentrate on Grillby, I walked to him quickly, worry shaking my steps and keeping G behind me.

"What's wrong? What's going on?" I asked in an urgent voice, thoughts beginning to choke my words.

None of the thoughts were good, and I couldn't help but wonder if G and I were in a deeper trouble then we were already.

It would be likely, considering G and I were always in some sort of trouble that would just add to the pressure that suffocated us.

Suffocated me.

Why had I begun speaking for G as well as myself?

Shoving him out of my thoughts was harder then I expected, especially when Grillby ignored me and walked to G, loosing his gentlemanly manner out of nervous urgency.  

"G he's found you," Grillby whispered in a whipping voice that matched his flickering flames.

Without explanation, I felt my knees wobble and my head turn light as I thought of Asriel and his sickly smirk.

His sickly intentions.

Not wanting to puke two times in one day, I turned away from the news and stared at the empty hallway that seemed to give my mind little space to breathe.

"Dammit Grillby!" G shouted, a bit too loudly in my opinion.

Perhaps it was because he was angry, shocked, and nervous about the whole situation.

Normally, I would enjoy G's nervous feelings and anger.

That is, if they were caused my embarrassment and teasing.

Yet that was a rare thing, and this anger was common.

And this anger, kept my thoughts straight and kept my body stiff with expectation.

G didn't punch a wall like I had thought he would, instead he growled and rubbed his skull with dramatic emotion.

Turning to Grillby, I seemed to feel safer around him.

His warmth was welcoming, even in his nervous state of worry and urgency. He seemed to be a clam fire that was barely holding onto the air around it. Something that was more comforting then destructive.

I wished Grillby could have seen that about himself, instead of needing the glasses to feel like someone would actually be comfortable around him.

Someday I wished for Grillby to find a love, to find someone that could snuggle up to him and make him happy.