A Thousand Years (A Sansgore OneShot)

Asgore remembered the day when he was told what the number on the back of his wrist meant.

To think that one would be born with a mark was interesting. How could his body predict the future? Would it even be accurate? What if his soul mate died? Those questions were all directed at his parents, who simply explained it was due to magic and fate. They didn't know all of the answers, but that was fine. No one could have all the answers, and it settled Asgore's curiosity. He was only a child then, it didn't bother him too much.

What did bother him was his number.

Other children at the time had smaller numbers, each labeled with minutes or days to until they would see their destined soul mate. Some had years, as Asgore did, but those were mostly in the single or double digits.

His said a thousand.

1,237 years.

One thousand, two hundred and thirty seven years.

Asgore had cried, his parents quick to comfort him. To think that he would have to wait centuries just to meet the person he was destined to love. How long would it take for them to fall in love? What if he didn't even live that long? If he did, he would be really old and wrinkly, what if they didn't like him that way? Would they think he was too old?

Once again, his parents were quick to help explain everything. As a Boss Monster, just like his parents, he wasn't like other monsters. Age wasn't a factor to them, his parents were both actually over three hundred years old. They had to wait two hundred years to meet one another, and even though it wasn't nearly as long as Asgore would have to wait, they proclaimed it had been utterly worth it. His soulmate would love him, it could take time, but there was a reason to why his timer was counting down to that person specifically. There was a reason to why fate had decided that Asgore and this mysterious person would be together.

Growing up, Asgore would stare at the number slowly ticking down. It felt like agony, as if he was barely making a dent on the number. How long was a thousand years? To think he would just be waiting all that time was weird to think about. With each year that passed, he would think about his soul mate.

1,236 years.

Maybe they would meet in some sort of future place that wasn't built now. A thousand years was a lot of time, a lot could happen. They could possibly meet in some sort of advanced building, or maybe they could meet somewhere simpler. Asgore did love growing flowers, the forest was a possibility.

1,235 years.

They could be a florist! That would be nice. Asgore would work in the garden everyday, carefully tending the beautiful plants as his gaze would catch onto his wrist. It would be nice, yes, but they didn't have to be good with flowers. Thinking of how he could talk to them about the different types, and show the clumsy and new soul mate of his how to plant them gave Asgore a good image. Yeah, he liked that idea better.

1,234 years.

There was the chance that they, too, were waiting just as long as him to meet him. Imagining his soul mate, whatever they would look like, sitting patiently with a book as they were envisioning him just as he was them. Thinking about it let Asgore have a sense of relief about the years, knowing that they too would be waiting. Maybe not as long as he was, but they would be waiting for him just like he was.

1,233 years.

They had to like books, at least. Asgore adored reading some simple stories with the sun setting. They had to at least like the sky too, he wanted to watch the stars with his soul mate. Doing those two things sounded amazing, especially with someone he loved.