Your POV:
I walked out the diner doors feeling refreshed, happy in spite of my post-shift lack of energy. As one of only two waitresses Louie's could afford to pay, I really had my work cut out for me. At least it paid well; being a (very) small business, the job was technically minimum wage, but I always recieved easily a hundred dollars in tips every day from the friendly people that graced our humble little kitchen. Our dishwasher, Randy, always scolded me for "buttering up those poor folks up front."
...Whatever that was supposed to mean.
I waved and chirped a cheery goodbye to the last stragglers of the late lunch crowd, smiling widely at their answering farewell calls and likewise waves before I forced open the rusted front door. My smile turned into a wince at the resulting obnoxious creak; I would definetly need to fix that old thing up again on my next shift.
I glanced down and flipped open my relic of a phone to check the time... ah, good. four o'clock on the dot; I would still have time to stop by the grocery store, go home to shower, and make it to my second job at The Free Man's Bar before six.
I hummed happily along to the songs running through my head as I made my way down the street, giggling once or twice at the thick steam that clouded around my face after a particularly deep inhale. There were a couple times where I stuttered, remembering the skeleton from the night before... but I forcefully shoved those wretched thoughts to the back of my mind whenever they surfaced, denying myself the luxury of moping... and denying HIM the privilege of having any power over my good mood. I hummed louder and resolutely hastened my stride, determined not to let that absolute brute ruin my day; I would burn that bridge when came to it, I decided, and not a single second sooner.
My store trip was a standard middle-of-the-month stock up; milk, eggs, bread, lunchmeat, (strike out text) and ketchup, to replace my recently pilfered bottle and chicken flavored ramen. A simple in and out run... or it would have been, if the ache in my feet hadn't pulled me to the insoles on the shoe aisle.
I'd been meaning to buy some for quite some time, and if the pins and needles currently plaguing my heels and arches were any indication, the purchase was long overdue. Maybe some new laces as well; if I took my current ones out, I doubted I'd be able to fit the frayed ends back through the holes.
I was thoughtfully comparing the prices of two different brands when it happened. It started with a sudden chill in the air that would have sent me running for the exit if it weren't accompanied by a sickeningly familiar presence caging me in from behind. I was too shocked to even question how I knew exactly who was behind me without having to look. I just... stood there, stiff as a board, white knuckling the products in my hand as a deep chuckle sounded at my back, clearing my head by at least a foot:
"Well ain't this a sweet surprise?" Sans purred lowly.
I didn't answer. I didn't acknowledge his presence. All I did in response was replace the insoles in my left hand before beating a hasty retreat, dodging to the side and walking quickly towards my shopping cart.
"Heh..."
I squeaked in shock when he snapped into existence in front of me just before I reached the end of the aisle, stopping me abruptly with a firm hand on the front end of my cart, nearly making me run into the handle.
"You just gonna split without sayin' hi, sweetheart? Gotta say, I'm kinda hurt."
No. No! He was not going to do this to me again. Not now. I wouldn't let him!
Desperate to escape, I snatched my purse up and turned again... only to be snared once more, this time with a hand on my shoulder. I let out a low whine of fear as I stared down at his slightly scuffed but still expensive looking dress shoes, unwilling to look into his dark eyes or give him the luxury of seeing the terror in mine.
Sans was silent for a moment before applying a light squeeze to my shoulder. If he'd intended to comfort me,, he failed miserably; His grip, though cautious and gentle, carried a heavy power behind it that left me sick with fear.
"yeesh... you're really scared a' me, ain't ya?" He murmured.
...I gave him nothing.
He brought his hand to my chin and tried to lift my head, but I flinched away violently, stubbornly yanking myself from his grip before he had the chance.
No.
Thankfully he didn't push it, opting instead to fiddle with a strand of my hair, twirling it leisurely around his fingers.
"...i get it," he told me softly, without inflection. "i put ya through the ringer last night. ya got every right ta be scared... that's on me."
A shudder ran through me at the memory. He seemed to stiffen then, tightening his grip on my hair before letting it slip from his fingers.
"_____...."
I flinched again in response to his his dark warning tone and tried to pull back when he laid his skeletal hands on both my shoulders.
"_____. look at me," he commanded flatly. He waited a moment, and when I didn't comply, he slipped one of his hands slowly up the back of my neck and tangled it into my hair to tilt my face towards his. My breath caught in my throat when I saw his stony expression, a direct contrast to the strange, smoldering warmth in his dark eyes.
"i'm not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. no one's ever gonna hurt ya again," he promised me fervently. "i protect what's mine."
"I-I'm not yours," I murmured numbly, triggering a sighing laugh from him. He seemed equal parts disappointed, annoyed, and amused.
"whatever ya say, doll."
His self assured tone tied my stomach in painful knots as fear and anger warred violently inside me. How could he believe that? How could he think that I would ever lie down and allow him to own me, like some kind of pet or slave? After how cruel he'd been to me... after what he'd done...
'Don't...'
'Don't touch me!!'
"NO!" I cried out suddenly, startling him thoroughly enough that he actually let me go when I shoved at his chest with all my might. I felt the sting of my hair catching on the grooves of his phalanges as I stumbled back, almost flying off my feet with the force of my movement.
I backed away slowly on shaking legs as he watched me, keeping my gaze trained on his. His eyes... God, his eyes. The sockets were dead and lightless, like deep, fathomless pools of sunken pitch etched into his snarling skull. There was a dark within those soulless voids, an obsessive longing that threatened to swallow me whole. I tore my gaze away from his oppressive stare and whirled away, booking it down the aisle as I ignored the strange, sudden ache in my chest that seemed to grow in proportion to the distance between us.
I wasn't stopped this time; in fact, I made it all the way to the front entrance without incident... aside from the concerned glances the other customers shot my way of course. I only stopped when I made it to the doors, bending to rest my hands on my knees as I panted heavily from both the adrenaline and the head rush from the unplanned workout. I wasn't built for physical activity... but at least he didn't follow me. I could only hope I would be lucky enough not to see him again for a good while.
"Hello? Earth to freak? Are you freaking deaf?!"
My exhaustion was pushed back by alarm as the venomous shouts registered in my ears. I turned towards the commotion to find that a cashier just a couple registers away from the exit was snarling at a customer that I couldn't see behind the nearby shelves. Seeing that a small crowd had begun to form, I allowed my curiosity to overcome my fear and joined the spectators. The worker, a seething middle aged woman, continued to rant as I approached:
"Are you deaf? I. Said. Leave!" She snarled. "Your kind aren't welcome here!"
What... what in the world was she saying? Shocked and apalled, I hastened my steps to see what had her so riled... Oh.
Through the growing congregation of curious bystanders, I saw none other than Sans himself standing before the spitting woman, staring at her with a face of stone and eyes of steel. He was holding an armful of-
Were those spaghetti boxes?
I stood there uncertainly for a moment, torn between interfering and walking away while he was distracted. Truthfully, the option of stepping in shouldn't have even crossed my mind. Not if I had any good sense. And yet... the plain wrongness of the situation struck me in a way that made it impossible to ignore. My parents had taught me to stand for what's right, to protect others whenever possible no matter the victim. I just...
I just had to.
So, swallowing my reservations and putting aside my fear, I pushed through the onlookers and stepped up to the register, ignoring Sans completely to focus on the misguided cashier.
"Hello, miss. Would you mind sparing me a moment?"