•Frisk x Sans Oneshots• ~REQUESTS CLOSED~ ~ON HIATUS~

[Humantale - Frans Week #2 / Weather]

Second day of prompts! Still late, oops, sorry.

Third Person P.O.V.

   It was a rainy day when she met him. Daft and dreary downpour for hours on end.

Frisk was one of the few people out during the time, returning from her adoptive parents' house. The umbrella provided a soft "pitter-patter" as she quickly speed-walked home.

The clouds aren't happy today.

   Her shoes splashed a rather large puddle on the sidewalk, leaving an imprint of water on the tips of her leggings.

   That's when a figure came into view.

It was of a person standing under a bus stop. They seemed to be only a bit drenched. Frisk gazed at them for a little longer.

   She wanted to help them, of course. But they could be someone sketchy, so she wasn't sure. As the female approached further, she noticed that they were a teenage boy.

   He had very light and short hair. Nearly white, even. His ocean blue eyes looked up when Frisk's foot splashed yet another puddle.

"Er, may I help you?"

   His voice was deeper than she expected, yet smooth. The brunette replied hesitantly.

   "Well... you looked like you were stuck, so I was wondering if I could help you home?" She gestured at the umbrella.

   The boy considered this. Quickly checking his phone, it seemed he was reading the time. Quietly, he hissed something under his breath. The only part she caught was "Paps is going to kill me..."

   Then, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "That'd... be nice, if you really don't mind..."

Frisk smiled warmly and angled the umbrella so he could step under it too. "I don't. My name's Frisk, how about you?"

"Sans." He pointed to where he was headed, and they began their walk. Then he continued looking out at the rain.

She hummed a response, a rather awkward silence settling down. But Sans seemed relaxed, longingly staring at the descending raindrops.

   "Do you like the rain?" Frisk asked. He turned to face her, grinning a bit. "Yeah, I'm what some people call a pluviophile."

   She racked her brain for the familiar word. "That means you love rain, right? It brings you comfort?"

Sans nodded distractedly.

Frisk observed him. He was relaxed, most likely from the rain. But he seemed to be the type that was chill most of the time. A bit introverted, possibly.

That's when she realized the rain had lightened up, just a bit. And that the boy had stopped walking, standing still in the drizzle.

   The sentence was on the tip of her tongue, "What are you doing?", but it didn't reach farther. Sans looked so... natural in the rain.

   His smile was wide as he tilted his head up, eyes shut, letting the sky's tears fall onto his face.

   Frisk's words caught in her throat.

   He looks lovely.

   Sans turned to her again, reaching out his hand, inviting her to join. Carefully, she set down the umbrella, feeling her sweater already get soaked. Then, she mimicked his pose.

   They stood there in silence for a bit.

   "Why do you like the rain?" She asked. Frisk had always associated cloudy days and rain as sad. They meant cold and dark and loneliness to her. She wanted to understand.