Sanders Sides One-shots

Slow (OTP - Prinxiety)

Ship: Prinxiety

TW: Swearing, murder (non-explicit, just implied), character death.

That's RIGHT! I AM BACK! I'm so sorry this update took like a week. It's been hectic, and I've had assessments, and I've been fucking exhausted and oh my god, things have been ridiculous.

But I'm fucking here.

And boy have I got a surprise for you guys~

Yup! I'm doing a chapter with character death! I'm pretty sure this is only my second time writing a character death. I've only ever done it once in 'Responses', I think. Tell me if I'm missing any.

MEANING YES. THIS IS ANGST. YUP. I'M ACTUALLY WARNING YOU GUYS BEFOREHAND AND NOT TRICKING YOU, LMAO.

ALSO! Please thank Jana_Lagoon6632! I mentioned I thought I was going soft recently and said I needed to write this chapter to prove that I am not soft and have never been soft, and but she insisted that I was.

So guess what. The next 4 chapters after this are gonna be angst. Don't blame me~

Note is at the bottom.

The sun's last beams of light scattered through the room, forming irregular shapes that had his attention fixated upon. Eyes flitted from each shape to another, tracing their outlines as a form of entertainment. Silence had dominated the room, the faint sound of music escaping headphones that had been blasting against his ears for however many hours he had been laying there.

It wasn't like the eerie silences of the night, where chills seeped into his bones and shook the very foundation of his body. It wasn't like the awkward silences, where his bottom lip suffered from the teeth that attacked it viciously. It wasn't like the empty silences, where it felt like his voice was trapped in a chasm that echoed back the very pleas he cried but never gave a response.

This silence was comfortable. Welcomed, in a way. Despite despising isolation and the ubiquitous haunting of loneliness that followed, the radiant presences of his friends sometimes grew to the point where he would burn out. They were delightful, but they were exhausting to keep up with. So, today had been perfect; Logan and Patton had decided to go out for their two year anniversary, and Thomas had decided been to a party just yesterday and needed time in order to recharge his 'social-battery' — by ordering three large pizzas and binge-watching The Office for the sixteenth time. With a lack of maintenance, he and Roman had decided to take the days to just relax.

Roman had decided it would be the perfect time to repaint his room's wall murals. Knowing too well that he'd had a bad habit of singing Disney songs whilst performing practically any task, he had asked him if he would be kind enough to at least try to keep it down.

And to his utter surprise, he'd received a smile with a trace of something he could almost call fondness and a saccharine 'I'll try'.

That had lead him to his current situation; him strewn lazily across the carpeted library floor in what Logan called the 'reading position space'. Primarily because it was basically a small empty square of carpeted floor where you could position yourself however comfortably or uncomfortably you wished. He'd stated several times that a reader 'can never find a single comfortable reading position and often resorts to frequent shifting and the strangest positions'. Which he would honestly have to agree with.

He hadn't bothered checking the time because, due to Logan's insistence that 'when reading books, time is of no importance!', there were no clocks in the library. And the carpet was comfortable enough and the music loud enough that he'd become a numb compilation of limbs, muscle, and blood. The stage of pins and needles had long passed, so he was left with simply a body that didn't quite feel like his.