Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Twenty

You thank your neighbour for the coffee and turn your back on her when you reach the sink. The scent of dish soap overpowers the lingering smell of the caffeinated drink when you pick up the wash cloth and begin wiping the cup clean. It’s evident you’re trying to avoid a specific topic of conversation with her by how long it takes you to clean up.

“Are you sure about this?” Solana asks, still unconvinced with the options you were taking into consideration. “I mean, if you tried to work it out before, but even then they still didn’t cooperate. . . I think it’s a bit risky.”

The taste of iron makes you stop chewing on the inside of your lip. You hold onto the coffee mug tighter than before, hands losing their coordination with the longer it takes you to be honest with your neighbour. You didn’t want to tell her you had already sent a message to Jessie saying you wanted to talk things out with them. A part of you demands honesty, while the other fears how she would react if she knew you were trying to get in contact with Jessie for the past two weeks, in spite of receiving no response on their end.

You turn to face her and lean back on the kitchen counter. “But what’ll happen if they take the case to my town or somewhere similar?” you ask, a frown on your face. “You know those places still have their laws against monsters.”

“That’s still not an excuse. They shouldn’t shut down your case just because you’ve made friends with a few monsters. Hell, Faust studied in a place full of ‘em! Jessie should’ve had a word against it since the beginning, not just now — all out of the blue.”

You let out a breath and rub the back of your neck, facing down slightly to avoid her sharp stare. Your mind is conflicted as to what you should do, and it doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about the actions you’ve taken up until now.

“Think about it,” she advises, stern voice contrasting with the gentle expression on her face. “You have a lawyer, evidence, and even a few witnesses if you ask them beforehand. If Jessie wanted to fix things, they wouldn’t have taken Faust away like that.”

“Thank you, Sol,” you mutter, voice groggy with confliction and a general lack of proper sleep. “I. . . I’ll give it another day to think about it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Ready to say your goodbyes before you can get any further with that topic, you stop leaning against the counter and walk to her side. You kiss her on the cheek and receive one back before taking your leave, a farewell customary of her country. Tiredness reaches your muscles when you walk out of the house, the feeling reminding your weary self of just how many nights of sleep you’d lost since Faust was taken away from you.

A cold, light breeze blows by when you step outside, said action retrieving an involuntary shudder from your body. You shove your hands in the pockets of your (jeans/skirt) and keep walking, wanting nothing more than to reach the warmth of your home and think over what you were to do next. The shiny, wet asphalt is slippery under the soles of your shoes, forcing you to walk with caution.

A buzz from your phone makes you stop barely feet away from the entrance of your home. You reach out for it to see a reply to one of the strings of messages sent to your ex.

How is he?

I haven’t seen him in a week.

— Sent a week ago.

It’s been two weeks and I haven’t received a response from you.

— Sent two days ago.

I want to talk things out with you.