Not a Morning Person
You woke up to being held tightly. Something dug into your skin, leaving you in mild discomfort, almost in pain.
Opening your eyes, you realized Sans had his arms squeezing you, with his fingertips pressed hard into your shoulders. He was mumbling incoherently as well.
He must be having a nightmare.
“Sans..?” you whisper, squirming in his grasp.
His eyes shot open upon hearing your voice and feeling the movement. While his right eye was completed devoid of light, his left eye was a burning blue, it reminded you the night of the crash.
“A-are you o-okay?” whimpering, you reach up to get him to look at you.
The next thing you knew, you were laying against the all, gasping for air. Your back was burning, and tears were beginning to well up in your eyes.
Sans stood by the couch, breathing heavily. The blue in his eyes dissipating and sweat beading up on his skull. The regular white prin picks returning.
When he finally got a bearing on his surroundings, your shivering form filled his vision.
“s-shit, _____, i’m so sorry,” he breathed, taking a step towards you and reaching a hand out.
You tensed up at his touch, curling in on yourself even more. He was angry and you didn't know why. You never noticed it. How would you be able to tell if he was mad without the body language you know? You needed to hide in your room, blast music in your earbuds. Pretend that he's not mad. Pretend that he's not there.
You were terrified.
You weren't reacting to Sans at all. In fact, you seemed to be in your own little world, no matter how horrible that world was.
Sans had hurt you, he hurt you so much. So he did one of the things we was best at, running away. He blipped out of the room, out of your home. Leaving you alone in your crying mess.
Three days had passed since that morning. Sans hasn't replied to any of your messages. Whenever you called Papyrus to talk to him, he would say Sans wasn't home.
You spent the whole weekend looking for him after you calmed down. You went everywhere you knew Sans e er was with no luck.
He just avoided you.
By Monday, you gave up. You sent him one message before heading off to work. You did your best to stay cheerful. Your mood just wouldn't agree. Any one who got close to you made you recoil, but you tried your best. The day was excruciatingly slow, and so were you.
Sleep never claimed you when you fell onto the couch in your apartment. Everything felt numb. Sans refused to talk to you. You couldn’t draw this feeling away. You couldn't do anything. You were too tired to try.
Sans wanted to never find himself if the underground again. Too many bad memories that stuck. Yet, here he was, staring at the ceiling from his bed in his old house. It was the only place he knew where you couldn't find him.
You looked so frightened. Body language and all. You were scared of him.
He let out a groan and rubbed his face from the memory. God, he really fucked up.
His phone buzzed too many times to count as he laid there. They were probably all from you. He has sent a text to Papyrus, saying ye would be gone for a few days. So he knew it wouldn't be him or the others.
He had hurt you.
He made you terrified.
He couldn't stand the thought of seeing you face to face again.
A week passed. There was still no sign of Sans. Papyrus was beginning to worry. This was no longer ‘a few days.’
Everyone was getting anxious, Sans wasn't answering anyone's texts or calls. You though, were suffering the most. You numbed yourself out. Sure, you kept a cheerful mask while in public, which was mostly work. But, when you found yourself at your apartment alone, your mood slipped.
You stopped eating again, your bed was a horrible place to lay down on. You couldn't even draw your flowers! They were the one thing keeping you at least somewhat grounded during bits like these.
Now, you just sat outside or on your couch, lost in thought.
He was angry at you.
He hated you.
It snowed that night. You wondered what would happen if you stood outside the whole night.
You wondered if you should try disappearing again.
Sans wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. He just knew that it did. His phone would not stop buzzing, and being fed up, he picked it up to turn it off. Only to be surprised to see and incoming call from Papyrus over you. Choosing to humor himself, he accepted the call.
“hey bro, what's up?”
“YOU KNOW WHAT’S UP, BROTHER! YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR OVER A WEEK NOW! WE ARE STARTING TO GET WORRIED.”
It’s been a week since he left? If felt like no time had passed at all.
“nah, don't worry ‘bout me. jus’ gunna be gone for a few more days. no big deal.”
“_____’S WORRIED YOU KNOW. THEY HAVEN’T BEEN DOING TOO WELL.”
His non-existent heart would have skipped a beat when he heard your name.
“t-tell,” his voice cracked after he mustered the courage to speak, “tell them I’m fine and that they don’t need to worry.”
“Sans. Please come home,” Papyrus lowered his voice to volumes Sans thought he could never reach. His chest tightened hearing his brother sounding so defeated.
“just give me a few days. not too many. i’ll be fine.”
“Three. Three and no more. If you do not come back after three days I’m getting you.”
Sans let out a weak laugh, “you don't even know where i am.”
“Snowdin.”
“...fine. i’ll be back in three days. bye bro,” Sans hung up quickly, shutting his phone off right away. Papyrus was cross with him, for leaving the way he did.
He sighed, covering his eyes with his right arm. Facing you was something he wasn't ready for. Not yet.