[A tremble in their shoulders- a huff, a laugh, a sob; something soft and indistinct, because life doesn't get a soundtrack. Everything is quiet, and soft, and indistinct- and yet somehow it all sits there in a painful clarity. Every color and motion, every sound. It's all alive, isn't it? Just like he is. Just like they are.
And oh, they're not meant to be. Neither them or him, or the city they're sitting in, none of it is meant to be alive. Despite everything. It just kind of is.
A lot of things that aren't meant to be.
Like a whisper into the fabric of his jacket. If he doesn't hear what they say, then that's fine. Not meant to be heard, anyway. It's just mouthed into the fabric against their lips. A secret.
Because everything he feels, this wonderful, heavy, something-nothing-everything, it feels like it's real, like it's a living, breathing thing that exists, like it's actually supposed to. Almost like the real thing. And if there's anything Frisk knows with utter certainty, it's that despite everything
it's still just you, Frisk.
And they can't stay. They've never been given that option. It just doesn't exist.
They pretend, with a bump of a skull against their forehead, with their nose, pressing up against a space where another would, could meet, and a quiet inhale, that it's real.]
no subject
And oh, they're not meant to be. Neither them or him, or the city they're sitting in, none of it is meant to be alive. Despite everything. It just kind of is.
A lot of things that aren't meant to be.
Like a whisper into the fabric of his jacket. If he doesn't hear what they say, then that's fine. Not meant to be heard, anyway. It's just mouthed into the fabric against their lips. A secret.
And they want to say, if there's anything they can do-
But they stop themself.
Because everything he feels, this wonderful, heavy, something-nothing-everything, it feels like it's real, like it's a living, breathing thing that exists, like it's actually supposed to. Almost like the real thing.
And if there's anything Frisk knows with utter certainty, it's that despite everything
And they can't stay. They've never been given that option.
It just doesn't exist.
They pretend, with a bump of a skull against their forehead, with their nose, pressing up against a space where another would, could meet, and a quiet inhale, that it's real.]
You too.
[It's okay.
They won't let you down in the End.
They promise.]