New Home

Coming home

    He was laying on the cold void ground, resting the side of his skull onto his bony palm while his legs would scrunch up towards his abdomen, his entire body taking on a sort of fetus position. This time, unusually, the skeleton had his hood up, covering his entire skull, its edge would sort of enclose his field of vision. But then again, he didn't really need to see much, the view was simply exhilarating already and despite what one might expect, his eyes were lazy, halfway closed, filled with affection and longing while his grin was elevated vastly. The void has done its job, or maybe, his intense longing for his family, friends, for the half of his soul did. It's been too long and he gave up, all he wanted now is to live in his memories, to hide himself away and indulge into the reminiscing, warm scenes of his past.

He was laying on the two person bed in their room, at least that's what the void was making him see. The skeleton could even hear the gentle swirl of his trash vortex in the corner, to think of it, it's probably been dead for months. But he didn't want to think of it now, especially because the beautiful view of his lady, laying right next, facing him, was clouding his mind completely. His dull gaze slid onto her body, or the memory of it, from small knees up to her closed, shiny eyes. The little lady was wearing a loose, white t-shirt, the collar of which would dangle to the side, revealing a delicate collarbone and if he looked hard enough even a beginning of some breasts, while her hips and groin were covered neatly by some soft, bluish looking, pyjama shorts. She was hitting him with the most affectionate, tender smile before letting out a soft, slightly echoed giggle, raising her dainty hand upwards, placing it onto his cheekbone ever so slightly.

He couldn't feel her touch, no warmth was coming through and it would break a piece of his soul every time he wasn't able to feel it, but seeing her like this was sort of overriding his grief, just being able to see her was more than enough.

"Wanna get some spaghetti for dinner?" her soft, dim voice echoed inside his skull.

He only nodded in return, a very faded tint of blue taking over his cheekbones as he looked straight into her eyes. He would've raised his hand, brush away some of those thick, dark brown bangs so he can get a better glimpse of those shiny eyelashes, but he knew all too well that it would be futile, and his hand would just phase right through her.

The little woman closed in on him, shifting her entire body near, her smile widened greatly.

"I wonder how Papyrus is doing... Oh! We should also start thinking of maybe adopting a pet, hmm?" she hinted softly while looking up at her skeleton with sheer hope and joy emitting from her aspect.

Suddenly, he couldn't help but feel a strong pain through his soul, not sure if it was from the crack he has received a few years ago or from the raw feeling of guilt for not being able to make her a mother.
The blue hooded skeleton turned onto his back with a heavy sigh, breaking his concentration completely, making his lovely, warm memory dissipate in a matter of seconds.

He was back into the cold, empty nothingness. The shortie placed his forearm over his eye sockets while raising one knee upwards.

The memories were the only things that keep him sane at times, yet returning to reality felt like a worse burden. It was resembling a sort of addiction, a pleasant drug that makes you long for more, but without it, everything feels broken and soon enough you resort to indulging into it more and more and no matter how hard you try to keep away, you always come back, especially if we are talking about a certain, lazy quitter like the shortie of the underground.

"Sans!" his father's deep, unusually loud voice rang right next. Yet he's been so used to it that he barely flinched, he didn't even look or let out a single word in return, still drowning in sorrows and regrets while covering his gaze with his bony wrist.