He was tired. He was wounded, beaten, and broken, but most of all, he was exhausted.
He lay his battered skull in his arms, which he rested on the wooden station in front of him. He looked to the side, at the barren forest surrounding him.
He shivered as a gust of cold wind blew through his bones. Always cold, always hurting: he'd gotten used to it long ago.
His eyelids dropped shut, and his body fell into a merciful slumber.
_ _ _
The dark figure approached the station, growling and stomping angrily, as always. He glared at the small, shivering form at the station.
"Sans." He crossed his arms and scowled down at his small relative.
The smaller started and woke, looking up tiredly at him. His eyes widened as he saw who the larger form was.
"b-boss!"
A little thing.
Turn back if you expect any semblence of lasting happiness here.
YOU ARE READING
Too Good
FanfictionPain is all he knows. What else could there be? What would you choose: The crushing reality, or a comforting lie? This is heavily inspired by the movie Coraline, but it isn't buttontale. Don't come here for lasting fluff, you won't find it.
