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"Bone-appetit!" Killer winked as he set a plate of lasagna in front of Nightmare. "You're late, so it's a little cold. Blame yourself, not me."
Did he always feel the need to make that same pun everytime he gave everyone their food? It's getting a little old.
He rolled his single eye hidden behind the eyepatch uncaringly. He had considered thanking him for putting in the time and effort to create something for them, but eventually pushed against it. After all, kindness is what got him in this de-corruption predicament in the first place.
Grabbing his fork, he gracefully shoveled the food into his mouth. No crumbs on his chin, no nothing. The air smelt like a sausage pizza mixed with blood, the blood part most likely coming from the torture chamber. How annoying, why can't the smell just stay down there? Horror better clean that.
As a matter of fact, the whole kitchen needs cleaning! Dirty dishes scattered the counters, shattered plates on the floor, and ketchup and mustard was sprayed everywhere! Ugh, it also needs a repainting. Seriously? Black and white? Cross clearly had most of a say in the color scheme.
Nightmare shook his head, choosing to focus on something else. The lasagna tasted like ground beef and sausage, with a little bit of brown sugar to give it something special. As much as Nightmare hates to admit it, Killer is a really skilled cook.
Now, skeletons didn't have to eat, but he's gotta admit that it's pretty fun. It tumbles down his throat into his stomach and stays there until he uses the loo, haha!
Nightmare chuckled aloud, the concept of digesting something and having it come out of your buttocks later on was extremely humerus to him. Though he wasn't typically one for infantile jokes, this was an exception.
Even though he was eating elegantly, he can't say the same for the others. Horror just shoved his face right onto the plate and got as much as he could into his mouth, chomping rather obnoxiously.
Of course, being Nightmare; the king of the castle, he could simply order him to stop.
"Shut up, Horror." Nightmare said, directing a tentacle towards him accusingly. "No one wants to hear that incessant noise you make with your mouth."
Horror frowned, letting the lasagna slide out of his mouth for a moment before putting it right back in. Everyone made a gagging sound at the table before continuing.
"So, Nightmare," Killer began, sliding in the empty chair next to me. Dust, who sat on the other side of me, listened in to the conversation in a very conspicuous manner. Nosy brat.
"Why are you wearing that eyepatch? I mean— you can't even see now, can you?"
Nightmare slouched, turning his head towards Killer with a snarl. "First question; that's not any of your business. And for the second question— yes, I can see. I could always see through my second eye, it's just covered with goop."
Dust sat frozen, a sly grin making its way on his face. He wasn't one for speaking, he preferred to listen, but this was an opportunity that he couldn't pass up. "If the goop is see-through... then that means..."
Killer laughed hysterically, nearly dropping his plate as he clutched his stomach with his head curled into his neck. "Ha! Cross would love that, wouldn't he?"
"I hate you all. This is so unprofessional." Nightmare muttered, getting up and moving to another seat beside Error. Seriously, I need a new team. I'll keep Error and... and Cross, but I'll need to find other more respectful people so I don't have to deal with this everyday.
Cross looked up at him as Nightmare walked by with lavender blush, he must've overheard their conversation. Why must they all be so incredibly nosy?
"What?" Nightmare said, glaring coldly at Cross.
"N-nothing," Cross said quickly, turning back around with a shaky smile.
Nightmare did a fat eye roll, blushing in a cyan hue slightly before it completely faded. He could feel an excited aura from Cross, just what is he planning? Probably going to ask him out again, he should know by now that he'll be rejected forever.
Huh, there's an empty seat beside Cross, and we always only have the number of seats as the number of members we have. Is someone absent today? Oh well, guess they'll starve.
"You're the only non-annoying one here," Nightmare stated, sliding into the cold seat as he finished the remainder of his lasagna, occasionally wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.
And he wasn't lying, Error really was the only other level-headed member of his group. He was more independent than the others and went off to do his own thing a lot of the time.
"Why doesn't your goo get on that when you wipe it?" Error asked nonchalantly with his usual glitched voice, sitting at an empty plate, considering he always refuses to eat, with his arms crossed looking irritated as always.
He found the texture of food unbearable— especially lasagna, it's so greasy and wet— but also the feeling of it slipping down your esophagus. It triggered his haphephobia, along with the fact that he found the very idea of eating something someone else touched disgusting.
"The same reason my goop doesn't smear on chairs when I sit on them," he answers, never talking with his mouth full. Dream always insisted on it, and though at the time he refused just to spite him, Nightmare soon realized that it was genuinely good advice.
"And what reason is that?"
"Don't know, just the way it works I suppose." Nightmare stood up to dump his plate in sink, but smirked in realization that he didn't have to get up at all.
He curled his tentacle around the plate and dropped it in the sink which was pretty near, not making a single sound.
"Cool trick," Error commented. Nightmare was rather surprised, Error was never one for conversation, let alone complimenting others! He must be having a pretty good day— and he knew exactly the reason why.
"You were in Outertale with Ink again this morning— weren't you?" Nightmare teased in a chastising manner, raising his eyebrows in suggestion. He wasn't really upset, he just wants Error to finally admit it for once.
Error glitched out, leaning back as his eyes widened and bonebrows flew into the air. He quickly launched into defense.
"N-no!" He lies, throwing his arms forward with a furious and defensive expression. Nightmare crossed his arms with disbelief.
"Oh please, don't act like I haven't caught you there myself over ten times already. You were leaning on each other— could it be any more clear how infatuated you are with each other? It's sickening."
"W-well, yeah, I was— b-but we were talking about our truce and how he better not break it, h-ha ha I sure scared that dumb, cute little squid straight—!"
"'That dumb, cute little squid,'" Nightmare repeated humorlessly, shaking his head and curling his bone-lip. "I'm not even going to humor you anymore. Be careful, it's not like he can actually feel love anyway."
He teleported away back to his room, only catching Error yell a 'yes he can!' before he arrived right back in front of his cabinet.
Okay, time to read up some more about how he can fix— FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!
THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!
Nightmare grasped his skull tightly, sinking to the floor in a panic attack. The apple— where'd the fucking apple go?!
He looked up once more, praying to Asgore that he was simply hallucinating— but no. Atop the cabinet was where he placed the apple, yet it lay empty.
The last black apple was stolen from right under his nose. He is not brilliant; he's a fucking idiot.
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Words: 1333 words
Author's Note: Who do you guys think stole the apple?