VOXISTALE: Season 1

Sherudo

"NO!"

Terrence shot up on the couch, blinking blearily as he smacked his lips, having been jolted awake by a yell from inside the house. He could hear heavy footsteps shake the building, the sounds of items being tossed about, before he remembered where he was. His eyes adjusted to the light streaming in, and they focused on a potted flower in the corner of the room.

Slowly, he swung his legs off the couch, tossing the blanket off of him, and stretching, listening as Frisk came down the stairs and entered Asgore's room. "What is it!?" she asked him. Terrence smacked his lips again, ruffling his bed head for a second, then he rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. Where was he again?

Oh . . . right, he was staying over at Frisk's place. He stretched out a bit, feeling his back pop lightly, much to his satisfaction. Once he was done waking up, he began to worry about what was going on in Asgore's room—that shout had sounded urgent.

What Terrence didn't know was that something terrible beyond his realization had happened: when Asgore had checked underneath his mattress, the files he'd been hiding underneath it were gone, replaced with a handwritten note.

'Had to borrow these, sorry. I'll have a friend get them back to you in the morning, Big A.'

-L.K.

Terrence slowly stood just as Asgore politely told Frisk that there was nothing to worry about, reassuring his daughter that it was just a nightmare. "Right. Your room being a mess was the result of a nightmare. Did you lose your favorite oven mitt again?" Frisk's voice drifted into the living room while Terrence did more stretching, popping his shoulders as he did so, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"That's the spot . . ." he muttered.

"Er, yes . . . sorry, it's embarrassing to admit to. Again." Asgore replied, and Terrence turned to the door just as the two were walking out.

"Mornin', T," Frisk grinned widely at her boyfriend, who smiled back.

"Hey, baaauh—Frisk," he replied, having almost said "babe", glancing at Asgore, who seemed a little preoccupied as he made his way into the kitchen.

"How'd you sleep?" Frisk asked, to which Terrence proceeded to pop his neck.

"Like a baby's bottom."

Frisk giggled, "That's the wrong saying."

The boy winked, "I know."

Frisk rolled her eyes, smiling as she sat down beside him, quickly getting his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Despite her positive attitude, Terrence could tell she was worried—heck, so was he, at least a little. It wasn't like Asgore to act like that, but then again, maybe he just really liked that oven mitt. "And how'd you sleep?" Terrence asked her.

"Pretty well, but I felt a bit bad about you being out here on the couch," Frisk admitted.

"Don't worry about it, your couch is totally comfy," Terrence assured her, though the knot in his back disagreed. "So, what do you want to do today?" Frisk asked after a moment of silence, and Terrence bit his cheek.

"I uh . . . I'm actually a little busy today. Got some stuff I was supposed to do and I've been putting it off for too long."

"That's okay," his girlfriend replied, leaning into him. "We can hang out tomorrow."

"Yeah. Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see," he shrugged, and rested his cheek against her head.

The two remained in this position for a few minutes as Asgore prepared breakfast, occasionally whispering under his breath. Frisk could see that Asgore was using his favorite oven mitt from her position on the couch, which worried her even more, seeing his excuse had been a fib.