[A continuing trend: Chara's rosy cheeks going even rosier.

The thing about words like Mom or Dad or friendship: saying it out loud proves you believe it, and therefore makes it scary. Determination gives you the boon of momentum, lets you keep plunging forward without stopping to really think it over, but when you do stop, it's...

...It's really weird, how okay things are, right? After so much time being neck-deep in not-okay, it doesn't feel real or... or allowed? What gives things the right to be okay?]

I didn't... don't go acting like we're, I don't know... we're not - we're not friends.

[So they start to backpedal, to stumble to a clumsy halt. (They didn't stutter like that before they met Frisk, did they? They're good with words.)

But they were... doing pretty good, actually, right? Jokes are... if you can make jokes, it's... not totally ruined. They look away, try to shrug it off, and announce:]

Unless.

Cinnamon or butterscotch. We settle it for real.