Can You Hear Me? *REWRITE*

Time to Work? Just Add Water!

The next morning you woke at a reasonable hour, at least by your standards. You missed the chance to join Papyrus and Undyne on their run, but you weren't all that bummed about it honestly. While yes, you still needed to put some effort into keeping in shape, you simply didn't think you could keep up with them multiple days in a row. You hadn't even kept up with them for one.

So you slept in a bit and followed your standard routine. The only real deviation happened after breakfast, when you joined Toriel in the kitchen to help bake cinnamon buns. You had a lovely conversation about baking and family recipes, and bonded over your enjoyment of the baking rather than the eating. Sure, you'd probably devour a good portion of the cinnamon buns when they were done, but there was something about seeing other people enjoy the sweet treats you'd made that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

After lunch you headed out to the hammock, feeling like you needed some fresh air. The dappled shade was calling your name, and you had a few ideas for songs you wanted to try to iron out. So you grabbed your writing material, your phone, some sunglasses and headed out.

You hummed and hawed for thirty minutes over a blank page, scribbling lyrics as they floated through your mind and humming disjointed melodies as you tried to figure out the best arrangement. Apparently the ideas you thought you had were more disjointed phrases with no connections. The margins were already covered in doodles and stray notes as you plotted, trying to connect the dots in a way that fit.

It wasn't working very well.

Like many of your recent attempts, you had bits and pieces, but nothing that could make a solid song. You had a few decent starters, a few lines of chorus, a dash of instrumental possibilities, but no song.

You were in the middle of scribbling a little doodle of a happy music note when the door to the cabin slid open with a bang. You barely glanced up, catching a flash of blue and purple, before turning back to your little doodle. Undyne skidded to a stop in front of you, once again drawing your attention. "Hey, punk! What's with the face?"

"Sadly I was born this way," you answered half-heartedly. Undyne let out a surprised snort of laughter.

"That's not what I meant, but fair enough! I meant what's got you all..." You glanced up when she didn't continue and burst out laughing. She had her face all scrunched up in the worst impression of a thoughtful expression you'd ever seen.

"What's with your face! Jeez, I didn't think someone's face could move like that."

She relaxed and grinned. "FUHUHU! When I work out, I workout every muscle in my body! No muscle is exempt, not even face muscles!"

"Well, you're certainly the most ripped person I know."

Frisk, who'd been sitting on Undyne's shoulder the entire time, waved to get your attention. When you glanced up they signed, "So what are you working on?"

"Oh, just work stuff."

"Well duh. Who works on stuff that isn't work stuff?"

"Hey! I work on my totally RIPPED abs all the time!" To punctuate her point, Undyne flexed her ripped abs. You were a little jealous.

"That's different! Also don't you need those ripped abs for work?"

"Your RIGHT! DAMNIT!"

"To answer your original question Frisk, I'm writing. Well trying to. Song lyrics don't just appear from thin air, you know."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Pft, pretty sure."

"Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"