Crowdy [Error x Ink/Errorink]

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For GoshItsMeAgain

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Ink has always been a rather flirtatious type, at least that's what Error presumed. Despite having a soul himself, due to his isolation and its aftereffects he wasn't much better at naming emotions than Ink was. And he was... nice to him? Even when they still existed as one another's sworn enemies, it appeared that the other's take on it was much lighter than Error's.

...How did he land in one place with him then? The destroyer couldn't quite place his finger on it, maybe he was crazy? Didn't Ink claim that it's the exact reason why he should live in a proper, somewhat colorful house?

Regardless of cussing it out whenever questioned about the home, he was begrudgingly beginning to relish in the charms of life within four walls. His second favorite feature must have been the presence of furniture. Whilst he did find some of it utterly impractical, he still fell in love with others, especially the bed. Why has no one informed him kindly that beds, especially ones equipped with pillows and sheets, were much more comfortable than beanbags? It naturally still found a place in his room, because as much as he loathed to confess it, he could be nostalgic too. He was currently lying on it, the rattling insides a comfort to his sore bones.

Precisely as he was in the middle of arguing with the ever-present voices, another, distinct one joined in.

"Hayaa, glitchy! How's my favourite, little patient doing?"

Error excused the voices inwardly, rolling his eye lights at the low ceiling.

"Why you- ...you don't even heal me! And call me little once again and you'll get it."

"Naww." Ink cooed, his steps light as he strode near his "roommate". Error flinched once he saw a white-boned hand going down near his skull, but it stopped centimeters above it, petting the air instead. He couldn't even say he was surprised at this point, but it only made him more infuriated. That skeleton was soulless! Not capable of empathy! That should deem him as an asshole, shouldn't it? "What will I get? A kiss? Alright then, little, short stuff."

Okay, so maybe he was an asshole.

"Shush, you-you Eiffel Tower." Even he was forced to admit that it wasn't a satisfactory insult by any means. There was no real heat behind these words too, there hasn't been for a while now.

"Pffahaha!" Ink laughed brightly. "An Eiffel Tower? I'm happy to know you see me that much taller than you."

"Ugh." Error's eye lights wandered to the side, still stubbornly lying on his comfortable throne. "You're just pretending and you know it. You have stilts under those clothes. There's no way you grew taller for real."

Unfortunately for him, the other took it as a challenge. Raising his brown pants to show off his ankles he gave Error an almost apologizing look.

"Nope, sorry, no stilts here. Though you might be right..." He rubbed his chin in thought, ignoring his former enemy's victorious stare for the moment being. "I know! You might have shrunk!"

"Wh-, excuse me!?" Before the black-boned skeleton had the chance to be annoyed, Ink put his pointer finger near his mouth, making sure not to actually make contact with it.

"Hey," He smiled, no teasing in his facial expression, "How are you doing?"

"...I'm fine." Ending his fit Error raised one of his brows, his statement sounding more like a question. Where did this question come from? He was perfectly decent, thank you very much.

"No, I mean, like..." Ink's eye lights changed to a question mark and an ellipsis. "You've been acting strange lately."

"I'm pretty sure you've said I always act strange some time ago."

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