Do I know you?
“Do I know you?”
“huh? nope. never seen ya before in my entire life.” With a wink, the skeletal monster finishes serving a small kid, and they run off into the park, hotdog in hand, leaving their money on the counter.
You watch as he picks up the cash, placing it into his pockets without so much as counting it.
“You sure? I'm pretty sure we've met before.” You're leaning against the stand, giving him a once over as you try and think of any time you could've met such an impressionable monster during the last five years they've been on the surface.
“kid, if we'd met before d’you think you could’ve forgotten such a handsome mug like this?” He points to himself and you laugh, feeling slightly guilty but he chuckles along with you.
“Yeah, you're probably right.” You smile and lean back, somehow the silence settling between the two of you comfortable. You don't even know his name, and yet you've never felt more at ease. Too bad you don't see the way he looks at you, as if his soul is splitting in half.
“sans. sans the skeleton.” With a practiced smile he holds out his hand, and you turn your head to meet his cheerful gaze with your own warm smile.
“A skeleton? You don't say.” Cheekily, you take his hand only to pause at the feel of deflating air in your palm, the sound of a good practical joke hitting your ears.
You pause, confounded, meeting the shit-eating grin of a skeleton you had not known for more than three minutes. You think you're in love.
“Oh-” you start laughing, unable to keep your joy under wrap as you snort rather gracefully, in your opinion. “-my god. Is that what I think it is?”
Still holding his hand, you turn his palm and his grin grows ever wider when you lose your shit at the sight of a deflated whoopee cushion.
“only real, bone-a-fide practical jokes here.” The pun pulls another laugh from you, and he watches, the lights in his sockets turning into small hearts.
“y/n. y/n the human.” You let go of his hand and he snorts, that snarky yet still joyous grin returning.
“a human? you don't say.”
You spend the rest of your walk talking to a charming skeleton, a growing sense within you certain you've seen him before - talked to him before. It's such a strange sense of deja vu, but that's nothing new. You've always been haunted by the feeling your life’s on repeat.
Later, after you you leave and Sans stumbles his way home after one too many shots at Grillby’s, he cries himself to sleep wishing things could just be as they once were. He misses you - the you he married and grew old with - more than anything.
He's not sure he can do it all over again.