Curiosity Kills the Cat
A sweet scent aroused you from your peaceful sleep. You groaned sleepily, stretching in the sheets that surrounded you. The last thing you remembered was being in Sans’ arms last night. He must have put you in a bed. It was also his bed when you saw the familiar room from a few nights ago. You curled up in the sheets, not completely ready to wake up just yet.
Once you were ready, you noticed the source of the scent. There was a steaming mug on the nightstand next to the bed with a sticky note attached. Taking the mug, you pulled off the note to read it.
‘morning sleepy bones,’ there was a smiley face drawn next to it as well. How sweet. Just like the tea on the nightstand.
You smiled, finding the bag of some of your clothes on the ground. How did he get into my home? You shrugged and slipped off Sans’ shirt, replacing it with one of your dresses.
He was just so kind to you. How could you ever pay him back? You sighed, lost in thought as you drank your tea. It hit you once you finished the drink. Halloween was three days from now and you were not ready. You snatched a sweater from the bag and struggled to put it on as you ran downstairs.
“what’s the rush, kiddo?” the sudden voice made you jump a foot in the air. At least you managed to get your sweater on.
“heh, sorry. didn’t mean to make you jump out of your skin,” he chuckled, seeing your playfully annoyed expression, “but seriously, why?”
“I forgot about Halloween! Now we only have three days to prepare!” you cry, upset that you lost several days of possible progress.
“that’s what you’re worried ‘bout?” you nodded vigorously, “you get hit by a car and you’re sad that you missed a few days to get ready,” another nod. He laughed and shook his head, “kid, that’s adorable.”
You flushed at his statement, attempting to brush it off by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the door.
“where’re we goin’?”
“To the store, obviously! We need to buy candy, decorations, anything for Halloween!”
He shrugged in response and went along with it. While he didn’t want to go on his bike, there wasn’t much of a choice since Papyrus had taken the car to go to Undyne’s, and you couldn’t walk for too long without hurting.
“what happens if you start feeling pain when we’re out?”
You shrugged, “I guess I’ll just deal with it.”
The ride was less than fun. You didn’t cry, but everything felt sore and you’re sure you could have hurt Sans with how tight you were holding him.
When you apologized for the eleventh time, he just smiled and placed his hand over yours.
You were oblivious to the disgusted gazes that passed you and Sans. He had noticed, but said nothing. He didn’t want to make you worried, or ruin your happy demeanor.
You excitedly picked out a few bags of candy, most were for potential trick-or-treaters, but you had to admit you had quite the sweet tooth. After, you showed him about every decoration available, picking out some fake spider webs, with some creepy spiders mixed in too. He suppressed a chuckle when you tentatively poked one of them to make sure it didn’t move. You picked out a few more, heading to the self-serve checkout.
“do you get this excited over every holiday?”
“Not really,” you sigh, looking at the bag in your hand, “I never really had the motivation to care, not until now I guess.”
You smiled as he took most of the bags from you. Pain was beginning to return, you tried your best to ignore it. It began in your arms this time, making it difficult to hold the one bag in your hand.
“you alright?” he noticed you pained expression.
“Y-yeah, I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. You knew he wouldn’t believe it, but he tolerated it anyways.
“you gotta hold me tighter than that,” he said firmly when you had reached your ride. You stumbled out an apology. Pain shot up your right arm when you tried to get a better grip. Biting your lip, you pressed your face into his back, trying to forget the fact your arm felt like it was on fire. Sans didn’t say anything, he just brought you home. When had you started calling their house ‘home’?
He shoved you onto the couch before you could protest, excusing himself and left you in the living room alone. You sat in slight confusion, holding your throbbing arm. He came back several minutes later, with two mugs in his hands. One was steaming. He handed you the steaming one, sitting down next to you.
Stealing a glance at his own drink you were unsurprised to find the familiar red of ketchup.
“How sweet,” you smiled, turning to your own drink, it was the same tea from this morning.
“the tea’s s’posed to help heal you. Tori gave it to me. not sure if it works on humans, since, y’know,” he gestured to all the bandages hidden under your clothes.
“I’m sure it is! I have a feeling I would still be unable to get up without the tea.”
You really weren’t lying, you felt much better. Maybe you’ll be perfectly fine when you do go back to work.
Sans held you back from doing anything else today, which got boring real quick. You were itching to do something.
“Saaaaans,” you groaned as he held you in a tight hug on the couch. He was being literally clingy.
“hmm?” he hummed sleepily.
“I really need to do something. Anything.”
“why not nap with me?”
“First: no, that sounded really bad. Second: I need to move. Like, draw or something.”
“what ‘bout your arm? also we don’t have any flowers for you to draw.”
“I don’t just draw flowers!”
He perked up at that statement. Maybe that other sketchbook he saw had more than just flowers. Now he was curious to see the inside of it.
“I have to grab a sketchbook from my apartment.”
“no worries. i can-”
“No! I-I have certain books for certain things. You wouldn’t know which one to grab!”
“jus’ tell me what it looks like,” your behavior was a little off putting to him.
You were silent for a minute, “Fine,” you murmur, “It’s a simple cover, just a dark red with no words, and it’s rings are black. It’s about this thick,” you pinched your fingers to be around half an inch, “It should probably be in the closet in my bedroom.”
“got it,” he gave you a squeeze before breaking himself off and disappearing. What a useful ability.
Man you had a lot of sketchbooks. Some looked more worn down compared to others, and each one was unique. There were tabs in most of them. Some were labeled, others had a piece of colorful tape on them. Must have been some sort of organizing system.
When he found the one you had described, he pulled it out and glanced at the one he had seen from last night. He rested a bony hand on the cover, the temptation to open it very close to overwhelming him. If you had all these other books hiding in your closet, why was this one the only one laying open in your room? What was so special about it?
He ignored his conscience telling him to leave it alone, flipping the cover open to the first page. A smiling woman greeted him. Flipping through more of the pages, the same woman kept popping up. There were other people mixed in, but it was mostly her. Sometimes she looked sad, he noticed how the lines looked different with those sad ones. As if you didn’t want to draw it, they were quick and sharp.
Dates were written in the corners of each page, which dated out a few years ago. Flipping through the pages, he expected to see a date close to now before empty pages. Instead, the book was completely filled up, with the last date being in the same year from the first one he saw. Why would you have a long completed sketchbook lying in your room, instead of with the other ones in your closet? Did it have to do with the woman you couldn’t stop drawing? After a few minutes of staring at the last drawing, he closed the book. He should have listened to his conscience. He felt like he had violated your personality.
Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he closed the closet, taking a shortcut back to you.