Red Eyes [Chara X Reader]

43: Red

He tilts his head to the side, almost curiously as he observes us.

His violet stare makes my skin crawl.

"[Y/n]?" Frisk asks softly. 

His gaze breaks from me as he turns his head to Frisk's radiant form. 

Merely meeting one another's gaze filled the air with tension and I realize that the same was happening when he looked at me. 

Frisk takes a slow step toward him and as soon as she does, he takes the horrific blade and postures it at her, faster than he should be able to but, far too slow to catch her off guard.

Her eyes fall on the edge of the blade as it extends toward her but she stands her ground as it stops before her chest.

A warning strike. 

"What's wrong with him?" I ask, feeling the panic returning. 

"I'm not sure." She admits, studying him carefully. "He isn't frenzied, but he doesn't seem conscious either." She deduces. 

I nod in understanding, daring a step forward. 

As I do, blue spikes appear to block my way. 

A warning strike and a wall.. he's making defensive maneuvers in response to movement. 

Nothing directly harmful, but he's preventing us from getting close. 

"He's keeping us at bay." I mumble.

She nods, seeming to have come to a similar conclusion.

"But why?" She wonders aloud. 

"Is his soul lashing out?" I ask. 

She shakes her head, "He'd be attacking us like with Undyne in the sparring hall, this is different." 

Subconsciously I search for magic signatures.

I watch as the faint energy of the two wafts off of them, Frisk letting off pale gold streams and [Y/n] releasing twisted pulses of dark purple.

Looking down at myself, I see my own jagged red energy surging outward.

Have we been leaking our magic this whole time?

Frisk's magic and mine have been pressing against each other without us realizing it. 

And (Y/n)'s been caught in the middle of it this entire time..

"Shit." I hiss angrily. 

Frisk glances at me, a nervous curiosity on her face. 

"We've been letting our energy slip this whole time," I explain in exasperation. "And he's been in the backlash." 

I see the realization in her eyes. "Magic reacts naturally to emotions if you're not careful.." 

"He's very literally been stuck in the middle." I say with a nod. 

"His nose bleeds.." She mutters.

This isn't due to a loss of control, on the contrary, I'm shocked he isn't attacking us at this very moment. 

The kind of anxiety and fear that the two of us had to be leaking should've put him into fight or flight, especially in this more primal state. 

"Then we should be able to rein in our presence and he'll calm down, right?" Frisk suggests hopefully. 

"In theory, but there's only one to know for sure." 

Frisk takes a moment and closes her eyes once again, the brilliant light eminating from them disappearing in an instant. Taking a deep breath she forces her panicking energy to slowly return to her. 

There are a number of unconscious habits that define a powerful mage or monster.

One of the chief among these habits is allowing your magic to flow into your surrounding, to serve as your eyes and ears, and of course your sword and shield. 

And when a powerful mage is uncomfortable or scared.. Or sitting 5 feet away from someone that's killed their friends and family more time then either of them could ever count..

Well, whats meant to simply sense your surroundings becomes charged with a defensive, even aggressive energy. 

A bad habit in this case. 

In my case I have no excuse. 

I rarely ever allow my energy to extend because of the negative effects it has on humans and monster alike.

Simply put I was careless. 

I feel something smooth flow down my arm. 

Looking down I realise my fingernails are buried shallowly into the flesh of my bicep. 

Speaking of bad habits. 

But it got me out of my own head so, give and take. 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, before drawing in my magic influence. 

"He's moving." Frisk says quickly. 

I open my eyes slowly and see (Y/n)'s large form close and approaching. 

His eyes are still completely purple, with no discernable iris or pupil. 

Was it not enough? And why is he moving?

He stops about a foot away from me, seemingly staring at my face, a blank expression giving no hints to whatever is happening in his mind. 

"(Y/n)?" I ask hopefully, the anxiety clear in my voice. 

He tilts his head the side once again. 

He seems puzzled for a moment, studying me. 

The dark purple begins to fade into a soft lilac and shrinks until I can see the white of his eyes. A smile graces his lips as our eyes meet. "Red?"