The Lovebird and the Pun-King

Chapter two: All You Knead is Loaf

The sun is shining, birds are singing, and you can hear the faint laughter of children playing in the distance.

"Fuck my life." You whimper, rolling yourself further into your blanket burrito. For several long, blissful minutes, you lay in your bed, the past disastrous evening still hazy. You had some weird dream about a skeleton in a diaper, right? That turned into a nightmare pretty quick when that other guy ... "Why me?"

You can feel the mortification burning in the pit of your stomach. How could you have messed things up so badly, in such a short space of time? "They must think I'm a complete monsterphobe. Why else would someone do..." Your mind flashes back to the horrible warmth, and the cold, electric press against your throat "...that, when someone just puts a hand on their shoulder?"

Pulling on an old tee and sweats, you yank your hair into a messy bun. There is no way you are leaving the house today; you can't take the chance of running into either of the brothers, not so soon. Shuffling into the kitchen, you stare blankly at the contents of your fridge. Just the thought of food make you feel sick.

"Poor Papyrus. I must have made him feel terrible. I wish I could make it up to him." Your go-to apology has always been baking. Somehow, you don't think giving homemade treats another shot will go any better the second time around. "Maybe it really would be best for everyone if I just..."

Just what? Leave? Where would I go? All of my money's tied up in this place. I'm already behind on utilities, and it's not exactly a seller's market at the moment. I can't even afford to repair my car right now. How the heck am I supposed to afford moving?

You make your way to the couch, flipping the TV on absentmindedly as you go. The latest series of Love Island flares to life. Ever since Mettaton had begun hosting, the show has become a heck of a lot more interesting. It seems as though half of the contestants would rather try to woo the beautiful robot than follow the script set out by the producers.

"Worthless. That's what you are. A drain on everyone you meet. You should just do everyone a favour and kill yourself."

Maybe... maybe your ex was right? He had always been 'the normal one' in your relationship. Doesn't it make more sense that you are the one causing all the problems? What if he has been right all along?

"I should have listened to him." You feel your nails biting into the soft flesh of your wrist, trying to drag you back to the moment and away from your darker thoughts. "It's not too late. I could still..."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"HELLO? HUMAN? ARE YOU IN THERE?"

You hiss, dragging your nails away from your wrist. Small rivets of blood ooze sluggishly from the torn skin. That can't be...

"IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I MUST SPEAK WITH YOU. IF... IF YOU ARE IN THERE? HELLO?"

Oh god, he sounds so chipper and sad at the same time. How is he doing that? I can't ignore that; it's like kicking a metaphorical puppy.

You stand, making a move towards the door. As you approach, you can see his shadow looming over the frosted glass pane above your front door. What if Sans finds out? He seemed pretty serious...

Would Papyrus approaching you still count? You aren't sure if you want to risk it.

"[Y/N]? DID I... DO SOMETHING WRONG? I THOUGHT WE COULD HAVE FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI TO SOLIDIFY OUR SPECIAL NEW RELATIONSHIP. BUT, I SEE I HAVE OVERSTEPPED MYSELF. I WILL LEAVE. I... will not bother you again. I am sorry."

Before you realise, you find yourself blinking in the mid-morning sunlight. You couldn't stand to hear the defeated tone coming from Papyrus. He seems far too innocent to be sounding like that. I don't want to hurt him, not if... not if I can help it.