Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 1 of 4)

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Alternate Chapter Title: “Hey, (mami/papi) - Part Two”, or “Sans acts like a Latin American f*ckboy - The Sequel”

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"Where're you going?"

Frisk's voice activates an unregistered fight or flight response in you, and by that it means their voice makes you hide what you're doing like a closeted person would do with their phone when scrolling through gay stuff near their friends and family.

You stop halfway through getting dressed up and assess your situation before giving them an answer. Between the iron left next to your once wrinkled, button-up shirt and a bottle of (perfume/cologne) held up in your hand, finding an explanation as to why you're putting more effort than usual into something for your own, personal benefit is hard to do. "I'm going grocery shopping." Your words come out rushed, not wanting to be caught in a lie. "And then I'm going to meet with a friend."

"Is… Is it a date?"

Their bluntness makes you delay on a response.

"No," you say, words weighted down by guilt. "We'll just be hanging out like normal."

Giving up, Frisk glances at your phone and smiles when a few notifications show up on screen. "Is it Sans?" they ask again, now confident.

You try not to let your gaze widen and ignore the way your heart's already racing. "...How did you know?"

"You admitted it just now!" they exclaim, pointing a finger at you. "You're just like him." An angry look falls on their face and their arms cross with each other. "What are you trying to hide now?" They huff. "You're keeping things secret from me again!"

"I'm not hiding anything, honey." You scrunch your nose and bring a hand to your forehead, tension eating it up. 

You sit next to Frisk in bed and grab them by the shoulders right as you continue with, "He just…" You think about why exactly this is a thing, until you're reminded by the 'buy me dinner first' joke you made the day of the blackout. "He only invited me over to his place for dinner. I don't even see him as a friend, so I… I really don't think him as my boyfriend would be any closer, either." You catch your breath and prepare yourself to keep going. "I mean it when I say we'll just be hanging out." When you see Frisk keep quiet, you hold their shoulders tighter and try to get them to face you. "Are you worried about me?" you ask, going further back in your memories to the day Sans had seen you and Frisk dancing. "Sans, he... He told me about what you were feeling guilty over."

They freeze under your touch. A faint, concerned frown displays itself on their mouth, one they try to fight off. "And what did he say?"

Their voice is too quiet for your liking. It feels like you're threading a needle now -- except the needle is a syringe filled with sour truths and that failing to aim at your target would result in serious consequences. You have to take all possible perspectives into account: from your own, to Frisk's, to Jerry's, and every other viewpoints related to the situation. Completely adhering to one would either make you seem too self-absorbed, too lenient, too forgiving, or something else entirely.

You pass a hand through their hair and brush their bangs off their face. From there, you press a quick kiss to their forehead, allowing them to relax for a brief moment. "That you felt guilty about all this stuff going on with Jerry and me, and that it was one of the reasons why you ran away before falling to the Underground." Frisk holds you tighter, shivers, and presses their face against your chest, staying there while you talk. "He... also said you still felt bad over the last time you ran away, and over those calls I was getting from Jerry before he came over to visit Toriel's last week." You let go of Frisk, wanting them to face you. "You shouldn't feel guilty about any of that stuff, dear," you add, placing a hand on their head. "We broke up when you were way younger, and in the end, it was… It was a choice we both agreed on."

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