[Frisk sleeps better than they have in a long time. Turns out spending a few days crying and sleeping fitfully on a library floor will really wear you out if you're thirteen, and malnourished, and a little bit terrified for the future.
They almost assume they're still dreaming when they wake up and see that familiar triangular shape on the ground. But, no, it's real - it's really real, and Chara has one too.
Their eyes fill with tears again, of an entirely different sort.
Crybaby.
It's still the taste they remember, though. Still the scent of cinnamon and home.
Maybe it's not forgiveness, but it's maybe a step in that direction.]
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They almost assume they're still dreaming when they wake up and see that familiar triangular shape on the ground. But, no, it's real - it's really real, and Chara has one too.
Their eyes fill with tears again, of an entirely different sort.
Crybaby.
It's still the taste they remember, though. Still the scent of cinnamon and home.
Maybe it's not forgiveness, but it's maybe a step in that direction.]