♡Fangirl♡ (Error x Reader)

Crutches

Even weeks after the incident, Error was still furious. When you came home, you had no idea that he'd left; he made sure to return before you saw. Still yet, you knew something was off when you noticed the burning anger that was visible in his eyelights, though it wasn't directed towards you.

The glitched skeleton suspected you knew that something was wrong. As soon as you took one look at him, you asked if he was feeling alright. He, of course, said he was fine, but later that night you discovered that there was still some chocolate in the fridge.

And that meant something was seriously wrong.

The next day, Error asked why you go to work. This question took you by surprise, and you didn't quite understand why he asked it, but gave him an answer nonetheless.

Because you needed to pay for things.

He then asked what your line of business was, and why you're a part of it. All these questions about work rubbed you in the wrong direction, and you began to answer them a lot more hesitantly. Error noticed this and put the unanswered questions to rest.

But now, he was left with no answers to very important questions of his. Questions that deserved to be answered. Questions that needed to be answered.

But mostly, he just wanted to know why on Earth you work for that lady.

Surely there were better jobs, were there not? Much better paying, easier, more interesting, jobs.

Ones that don't entail physical abuse.

The original plan was to call the authorities once he saw the poor girl being beat up, but once he saw that it was you, oh, that wasn't gonna happen.

If anything, the neighbors would need to call the cops on him, for what he planned to do.

The male didn't like fights, despite the masses making him seem that way. It was unnecessary and painful. So he tended to try to avoid most of them by avoiding people in general.

But this was different.

That woman had hurt y/n. The only one he might actually care about in this whole wretched world. He still wasn't certain how he felt about the whole 'caring about the wellbeing of another person' sort of thing, but he knew for a fact that he didn't like this at all.

Not one bit.

At the moment, the male skeleton was lying across the couch, his head on one armrest, and his legs propped up on the other. He stared up at the white ceiling above him, counting the seconds. He was beginning to close his eyesockets, despite the worried human standing beside him.

You.

You fidgeted, shifting your weight from foot to foot, your arms crossed. You had been getting increasingly more worried about the male, who hadn't seemed like himself, lately.

You knew how he was supposed to act. Distant, slightly angry at the world, somewhat determined, and kind of active. But this was too much. He was too distant. Too angry at the world. Much more than he should've been.

"Error, what's wrong? You haven't been acting the way you used to, and it's been a couple of weeks! I know you keep saying that you're just tired, but I don't really think that's it. What's wrong?" You asked, playing with your fingers.

Error, having been asked the same question over and over, sighed. He was, in all honesty, flattered by your concern, but couldn't really tell you what was going on. You'd surely stop him from beating the living daylights out of the woman, there was no doubt about it. But still, he couldn't help but feel guilty.