Vines and leaves press into my back and sprawl across my neck, cradling me within a beautiful spectrum of trust and mutual reliance. We share something greater than trust, greater than what the other monsters feel. It's like trust, but only better. We are one. One cannot survive without the other, and we live by either of our sides, with no doubt in our minds that it will ever change. Asriel is my equal, I am an equal to Asriel. The ideal symbiotic relationship. Leaves and growth continue to reach into my hair, tugging gently.
He doesn't say anything.
My footsteps echo across purple halls and I hold Toriel's hand. Her furry claws embrace my own and I feel cold. The callouses on my hand, which are rather unsightly, graze upon her soft fur as pure as snow. I am the child, right? She smiles brightly.. like the beautiful sun rays I dream of reaching again. I lived with her before. That timeline was the last I think I felt truly happy. Even before that, I remember faintly of something even more. It tugs on my heartstrings, but it leaves my tongue dry. I don't know what it is.
"What's wrong my child?"
"oh.. nothing.." I stutter and whisper out. Sometimes I've resented the way I speak... but those ways are childish. Silence isn't all bad. What I don't speak I make up for with my eyes. I see and look and wonder with the eyes of a child but the analyzing calculation of no one other than me!
When she turns ahead, I see a shield of warmth within her eyes but what lay underneath is something far darker that I ever thought I'd see out of someone as motherly as Toriel. Something sinister. Something resentful. I saw this in a timeline before. I sometimes remember, but it can be a bit troublesome.
I don't say anything.
We finally arrive in her house. She opens the door graciously and I follow. Yellow floorboards line the house with rich carpets decorating the floor. Ornaments hang from every which way, filling every space and every corner with special and unique love. It's nice, I guess. The way it's filled with warmth however only makes me feel empty. I feel dark compared to Toriel, I feel disgusting. I hate the way she pretends to not think about the castle; her days before her separation from Asgore oh so fondly. I hate her for that. Such feelings are childish though, right? I would hate to cause trouble.
So I don't say anything.
I go to the kitchen. I look from each high and low. It's different with every timeline, so I don't know where to look this time. Routine takes over as I check the usual spots while Toriel rocks outside reading. So troublesome.
Where are the knives?
YOU ARE READING
Lovely Little Frisk
FanfictionLooking through the eyes of someone more sinister than usual blooms into something more as they rediscover who they are and the things that make us human.
