Echotale - Thought So (G!sansxFrisk)

A Little Birdie

*Frisk's POV*

"These stupid flowers are everywhere!" G yelled as he tore through blue vines that blocked a broken stone doorway.

Ever since we started walking again, his anger had only gotten worse, and I could see it fuming in his eyes while I politely and carefully stayed behind, not willing to have my neck snapped any time soon.

While we walked, I couldn't help but think about G.

Of course, I scolded myself for even having a single thought about him, yet there he was in my head, playing with my curiosity and my feelings.

Although I had forced myself to ignore him, it seemed silly to me that he was still there in my every thought.

I tried to make them all bad, or at least useful.

When I thought about him, I stared at his anger and how selfish it was of him to do things only for himself.

It also stung that he was mostly angry that he would be stuck with me for the entire walk, that he said was miles and miles away.

Who knows how long it could take.

I prayed it wouldn't be weeks, and I tried to keep my thoughts on two days.

Two days would be my limit.

Either way, G hated being stuck with me, and as much as I made myself hate it as well, it stung just knowing how much he wanted to get rid of me.

As I thought about it, I realized I also wanted to get rid of him just the same.

I remembered the time in prison and how much I wanted him dead, wanted him away from me.

Was G feeling the same things I felt then?

And if I don't feel that anymore, what do I feel?

'I feel like hes a stupid selfish pig who cares about nothing but getting what he wants and teasing girls,' I told myself with a glare directed at G.

The thought fell too real, and I tried to keep it fresh by remembering every sickly thing he had ever done for himself.

Most of the memories were embarrassing, and I had to pull my shawl over my head like a hood to cover my blush.

When I felt like it wasn't covered enough, I had to look down and pull it over more.

I wasn't really in the mood to look at G's tense anger anyway, and I continued to walk quietly behind him, knowing that if I tried to speak up I would just annoy him worse.

Though didn't I want that?

Didn't I want him to suffer and be angry?

Shouldn't that be satisfying to me?

Telling myself I just didn't want to get killed, I stayed quiet and listened to G's low grumbles.

'G is quite the actor.'

The thought seemed like a surprise to me, and I remembered having the same thought over and over.

Then I thought about how he could be acting his entire life, always putting on a show for people.

What I had seen with the flowers, with the beautiful Underground, that G I saw could have been the real G.

The enjoyable G.

Though that could have also been him acting.

That could have also been a trick.

Why had I enjoyed that so much?