Playing with my food. (Horror sans X Reader)

The tenderest of Care

Tw: Nudity mention (more Lust shenanigans but just mention of em') and Cw: bed sharing (Idk why I even put this nothing really happens you just so happen to fall asleep with a certain skeleton êwê)

—Your POV—

As the lights of the evening are slowly swallowed by the subtle blackness of the sky, and the Moon gracefully climbs into the clouds, night settles upon you. 

The day has wound down, and everyone is either sleeping or tending to someone. You don't know who, but you never saw Cross come out of Nightmare's room, which is saying something since you've been going back and forth all evening. 

You got Lust his medical wraps, cleaned him up a special guest room, listened to all his flirts and coquette remarks, and even cooked him a meal. He talked a lot, and Horror came around to provide assistance, even though you insisted for him to stay in his room and wait. 

You guys agreed to take turns showering, and each got changes of your respective clothing. Except for Lust, who opted to walk around with nothing on since he didn't have his clothes here, but Horror quickly shot him down by getting him some lounge gear to run around in for the time being. 

All in all it hasn't been too long, but you're glad to know that the day is coming to an end. Exhaustion tugs at your mind like an impatient child looking for attention, and you're afraid you can't bear to ignore it much longer. 

Just one more thing you have to do tonight, and that's patch up Horror. 

"Cupcake, you look a little worse for the wear...?" He coos, placing his hands on your shoulders while you sway on your feet. You're tired, of course you do. 

"Gee thanks." You mutter back, forcing your eyes open a little wider as you straighten. "I could say the same to you."

Horror snorts, letting go of you as you sidestep him in favor of his bed, sitting, not laying down. He comes to take a seat beside you, smile lax and lazy in the weak light of his room. The world is silent, not even a cricket dare make a sound. 

"It's weird how days and nights work here." Horror comments, throwing his gaze over to you as you struggle to return it, eyelids heavier than dumbbells. "Nightmare's mansion I mean." 

You nod, taking an unnaturally long blink before yanking the medical wraps out your pocket, showing them off to Horror in a semi-awkward motion. 

"Work and talk. Show me your back." You command, not really considering the weight of your words or the crimson roses that bloom on Horror's cheeks. He quickly turns his backside to you, and you push his shirt up to his shoulders, fingertips lightly tracing his vertebrae on your way up.

He has a few cuts along his spine, in need of the monster disinfectant cream and  of course the medical wraps, but that's it, they're not too deep or too serious. Looking at the bones however, you see old faded scars, older than the fresh ones that look like small scratches in comparison. Who could've done this?

"B-But anyways." Horror huffs with a clear of his throat, snapping you back to awareness as you take a tube of disinfectant cream from the dresser. It's a short distance. "Nightmare doesn't even sleep, but the days feel so much shorter than the nights..." 

"Maybe it's winter." You suggest, gently applying a tiny dab of the ointment. "We should ask sometime, maybe he'll tell us." 

Horror misses a beat, and you could swear he shudders when you lightly rub the healing lotion across his spine. What in the world could be the cause of that? Was he just sensitive or something?

You don't question it, instead mindlessly rubbing along until the cream has been imbedded in the bone, then you grab the medical wraps finally, ready to put them to use. 

"I-I mean that could be a possibility." Horror stutters, twitching while you gingerly wrap his spine. It must feel odd, you suppose.

Once all is said and done, you head down the hall to the bathroom to put the medical supplies away. The first aid kit hasn't been put back either, but you suppose Nightmare was probably suffering a lot from the arrow Dream had shot him with. Otherwise, Cross wouldn't be in there still. 

When you return, Horror is still on his bed, head in his hands, though his shirt is down. You don't even bother to pry, instead landing face first on the bed, beside him. You're too tired to argue or investigate or ask questions, and all you want to do is sleep sleep sleep. 

As if answering your prayers, the lights flick out, and you hear the door swing shut. Before you can react, you're lifted from the bed and slid under the covers shortly after. 

"H-hey!" You start, flushing. Horror shushes you, stuffing a pillow under your head as his fingers drum on the mattress. 

"Permission to join you?" He requests, mocking a tone of respect. "You look quite comfy."

Well, the bed is pretty warm... but also quite empty. You suppose you could share the space.

"Granted." You murmur, shifting over so that Horror can slip in next to you. And slip in he does. 

"Thanks." He says, gently pressing his teeth to you cheek before pulling away just as quick. 

"Your welcome."

—Time Skip—

You wake up, and morning lights stream through the window. A cacophony of noises goes on downstairs as you groggily crawl over Horror and out of the bed, finding your pants all weird and  wrinkled like they often are after a good night's rest. Pity. 

"Where're you going Cupcake?" Horror utters, stretching out and yawning deeply as you smooth the fabric that covers your body. "And what time is it?" 

"It's like 9 in the morning." You supply with the help of the alarm clock on Horror's dresser. The alarm isn't really even set to any particular time, and it's one of those digital ones with comes with option to mute it, explaining the speaker symbol with a line slashed through it flashing in the upper left corner. 

Horror hums, or was it a murmur you didn't quite catch? You don't stay to figure out, instead venturing to the bathroom to clean your face and Freshen up for the morning. Once satisfied you head out to the loft, leaning on the railing that oversees the living room and kitchen below. 

Nightmare is down there, looking worse than his usually terrifyingly powerful self. His slime and smile are thin, with the tentacles protruding from his back looking sickly and weedy. You think you can see bones underneath the slime, but don't get a good look before he turns you you, as if sensing your gaze. 

Unlike usual, he doesn't shoot that imposing chill down your spine. You don't know if this agitates him or not, but he does point to something in the kitchen, as if signaling to you. 

"Cookie." Is all he says.

You guess you're having continental breakfast this morning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I know I said cookie next chapter but AUGH this came out a lot longer than expected because I've been writing a lot today! 

Also, I'm big on terraria, so naturally whenever I hear 'EOC' my brain's like 'Ayo eye of Cthulhu??' But turns out when my home room teacher was talking about that this morning, she did not mean the easiest boss in the whole game... she meant finals, also known as 'End of Course' tests. I am testing this week and the next, and I am mortified. 

Also I'm sick, so fun fun fun fun (run) fun fun fun fun fun fun. 

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

- De Moogus