5| Show Me How

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•My heart fell to love again. Show me how, I'm turning around, I'm having visions of you.•
|VI|

•••

No excuses gotta wait it out.

"Vi?" Dream's voice of concern snapped them straight up almost, they glanced at him confused for a moment, "I asked if you were alright?"

Now all eyes were on them, Vi was about ready to run, fight or flight being activated.

"I'm good," the pause before their words was almost a little too long for Dream to believe them, and the fact that they were trembling with the most anxiety that he had ever seen, apart from Anxiety-tale Sans.

"If you need to step out you can?" he murmured and Vi shook their head frantically, although they probably needed to step out, there was no way in hell they were gonna admit that. Not when they had already walked into the building, and not when all eyes were on them like this.

They sucked in a breath, sighing as the tension in the air stretched to something close to a breaking point. It didn't matter at this point yet, their distress was certainly taking a number on the room, or well those who could tell.

By the end of the night something was upset in the room and they soon got distracted by their own thoughts rather than what the rest of the room was talking about, they could barely keep up with the conversation. They really didn't know when it switched from activities in the area to plans later on.

Sooner than they even realized the end of the little dinner had rolled around and they couldn't be more grateful. Although they held their regrets, honestly they couldn't be more disappointed in themselves for ruining the four skeletons' dinner with their silly worries.

They said their goodbyes and arrived home with a sunken look, Vi wanted to be their friend, it's just something inside of them just wasn't okay with that situation.

They slouched down onto their couch, staring around at the clutter, this only increased their grotesque feeling of shame. They squabbled with themselves in their mind until they felt the need to eat rise up like bile in their throat, it had been years, so so many years since last they ate right, have they ever eaten right? Since when had anyone ever eaten right, especially people Vi knew?

It didn't matter.

None of it mattered.

They were spurred on by a sudden rage and they ended up just grumbling at the clutter and retreating into their room. Pulling themselves along into their dying bed, the poor bunk bed creaking every small centimeter they crossed, it practically died out on its last legs just the other day.

They laid down on their side staring around the room. They had poems hanging from the walls and ceiling inside little origami flowers they carefully crafted for many hours of their time. They were something of a poet, spending their time writing some small scribblings, pure embodiments of their emotions, despite the poor spelling.

Their poems had been sad and lonely for so long, so utterly long they only knew of a few poems that were happy, well, only in a sense.

In the far corner of their room, suspended in air like the poem was suspended in time itself, sat a dark black flower with a red inside, a poem to their first crush. How trivial now.

Near it rested the poems dedicated to the things they had lost during the event. One filled with rage and dying hatred, another filled with grief and unwanted anger. Near those is one more, sorrow, anguish, regret.

None of these suspended flowers would reach the eyes of another, they knew this, as they had no one. Perhaps Lust but he was just someone they had met just today.

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