Blind Love (Reader X Nightmare Sans)

soup

Nightmare's POV:

"Darling~ I brought soup~ " I cursed inwardly.

"D-darling!?!" She blushed, casting a delicate hue upon her cheeks, as she accepted the bowl.

As she delicately sipped the soup, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at the edges of my conscience. Here she was, innocent and trusting, unaware of the true nature of our relationship. My facade of endearment masked the selfish intentions lurking beneath, a charade I had perfected over time. But as she smiled up at me, her blind eyes sparkling with genuine affection, I couldn't bring myself to shatter the illusion. For her, I was nothing but a loving partner, a beacon of support in her world of darkness. And yet, beneath the surface, I harboharbouredets that threatened to unravel the fragile tapestry of our existence.

As I returned her smile, a sense of gratitude washed over me. She truly was a spectacle to behold, and I felt privileged to have her in my presence. Our journey towards understanding each other on a personal level excited me, though I vowed not to rush our connection. We would allow our bond to blossom organically. But amidst these thoughts, a disturbing realization dawned on me what happened to me?

Yes, watching her was pleasurable, but the urge to hear her speak tantalized my senses even more. It was an experience I yearned for, a desire that stirred deep within me before the Apple. Yet, as I contemplated drawing closer to her, fear gripped me, paralyzing my actions. Who am I in this moment? Which facet of my being is asserting control?

The conflicting impulses within me waged war, torn between the longing to adore her and the desire to tear her apart to silence these tumultuous emotions.

I remained rooted in place, unable to break free from the shackles of indecision. Though my mind entertained notions of engaging her in conversation, my body remained immobile, consumed by fear of rejection. But why should she despise me? Why engage in this internal struggle?

The realization dawned upon me-I was not in control. This body, this vessel belonged to him, the real Nightmare Sans, whose buried desires had resurfaced in response to her presence.

As she continued to savour resources, oblivious to the turmoil within me, I grappled with conflicting desires. She was a captivating blend of fragility and allure, an object of desire and possession. My laughter reverberated in the air, a testament to the twisted amusement I derived from the situation.

Her innocence only intensified my desire to claim her, to possess her completely. Yet, amidst the darkness, a flicker of admiration for her strength emerged. She may appear fragile, but there was an underlying resilience that intrigued an unexamined depth to her being that stirred something within my soul.

Blushing furiously, I found solace in her blindness, shielding me from the potential horror of her gaze. Yet, as I stood over her, the master of this confined space, I couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions, desire, and an unexpected respect for her inner strength. She was small, vulnerable, and yet undeniably powerful in her own right.

"Are you okay?" Her gentle voice broke through the silence, laced with concern as she reached out to me.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her inquiry. "Oh, yes, I'm fine," I replied with a faint smile, attempting to mask the tumult of emotions swirling within me. "Just lost in thought for a moment there."

She nodded understandingly, her expression softening as she continued to eat her soup. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the bowl filled the air, a comforting sound amidst the tension that lingered between us.

"You know," she began hesitantly, her tone cautious yet curious, "I've been meaning to ask you... What's it like being... well... you? I mean, do you feel anything? Or is it just... different? I'm sorry, I don't want to offend you, I just-"

Her question caught me by surprise, but I welcomed the opportunity to engage in conversation with her. "Well, it's certainly different," I chuckled softly, relieved to have a lighter topic to discuss. "I don't feel physical sensations in the same way others do, but I do experience emotions. Happiness, sadness, excitement... They're all part of my existence."

She listened intently, her curiosity piqued as she set her spoon down, fully engrossed in our exchange. "That's fascinating," she murmured, a genuine spark of interest illuminating her features. "I've always wondered what it would be like to perceive the world."

I smiled warmly, grateful for her openness to understanding my perspective. "It alleges," I admitted, "but it also offers a unique perspective on life. And besides, it's moments like these, sharing a meal and conversation with you, that make it almakesrthwhile."

Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, a shy smile gracing her lips as she met my gaze. "I'm glad to hear that," she replied softly, her eyes shining with sincerity.

As the conversation flowed effortlessly between us, the tension that had gripped the room gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of warmth and camaraderie. With each passing moment, I found myself growing more at ease in her presence, grateful for the opportunity to connect with her on a deeper level.

And when the time came for her to finish her soup, I reached out with a gentle smile, offering to take her bowl. "Here, let me get that for you," I said, my voice filled with genuine warmth as I took the empty bowl from her hands, cherishing the fleeting moment of connection that had blossomed between us. "You should get some rest before we leave. I'm taking you to work with me, and I want you prepared."

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