Lee sets his chin in one hand. "I'm more than willing, Sans," he murmurs against the flesh of his palm. "The last thing I want to do is add any more hurt or burden to that child's shoulders." His fingertips tap against his cheek in thought. "But niceties aside, I want to prove it with actions not platitudes."

Between the way his back is arched over and the deep lines form beneath wisps of white hair fall ing across his forehead, Rosen looks much older in this moment. Gaunt and wiry, veins like strings along his arms seemingly knotting him together.

"And, Door willing, I would readily be in it for the long run."