Story: Seven

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"Tralala, tralala..."

"Your singing that again?" He asked her.

"He taught it to me. Tralala, tralala,
Beware the blue moon,
Beware the wolves,
Who where their coats like clothes.
Beware the man who made them.
Tralala, tralala,
Beware the man who speaks in hands."

"I knew him."

~

"This is it." You pulled into the driveway.
Sans looked strangly sick.

"Thank Asgore." He muttered and stepped out.
He stared up at the broken down place. "Is it haunted?"

You laughed and shook your head. "Nah, I don't believe in ghosts."

Sans smiled at you. "One of my closest friends is a ghost. I'll have to introduce you to him.

He motioned at the stairs. "Ladies first."

You rolled your eyes with a smile and walked up to the door. "Mm. Hold on, let me unlock the door. I'll get you your own key soon."

You felt him staring at you as you unlocked it, and it made you blush.
"Here."

You opened the door and walked in. Sans stepped in carefully behind you and closed the door. "It's... big."

You nodded. "Yeah. My grandparents let me move in when I was sixteen, since no one would adopt me. When they passed, they left all their stuff, including this house, in my name. I don't go in their rooms though. I leave those alone."

You turned to him. "You can choose any room except theirs and mine."

He was staring up and the high ceiling, the railings, the stairs, taking it all in. "You got any ones with small beds?"

You nodded. "Down that hallway."

He glanced that way, then looked at you. "Listen, if you don't want me here..."

You held up your hand. "Hey, I'm fine with it. As long as you clean up after yourself, you can stay. And don't hike up the bills."

He glanced around again. "Do you get visitors?"

You paused. "Noooo...... I don't have family. Or friends. Kinda a hermit."

He nodded. "Heh. Still trying to get used to all the room. Kinda wierd."

You giggled. "I'll show you the room."

~

"Yeah, this is small enough."

He'd looked through three rooms to get to this one.

"It was used as small storage space. We'll have to move a bed in here." You touched the fading paint.

He glanced at your hand. "Hm. I'll do that. So, anything specific I can't do?"

"No parties."

"I'm not sixteen." He chuckled.

"Hm... no late night snacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You smiled. "Can't think of anything else. Do you need anything?"

"Hm." He set his bag down, still scanning the dusty room. "Ketchup."

You laughed. "Really? I'll get you some, I guess."

"I'll give you the money for it."

You lifted an eyebrow. "You have money?"

He shrugged. "I work at night."

You nodded."Okei. So... I'm gonna go make some lunch.... do you like hot dogs?"

Sans had been pulling pictures out of the little bag, but his hands stilled. "Um... yeah. Their actually my favorite..." He avoided your eyes.

~

You leaned against the door. "Hey, their done."

Sans looked up. "Who?"
He was sitting on the floor, looking through a book. Had a few familiar pictures in there...

"Hotdogs."

"Hotdogs? Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry." He put the book down and stood.

There was a poorly drawn picture there, pressed in the pages. Never forget.

"You okay?"

You looked up at him. ".... yeah. Do you have work today?"

He nodded. "I have to leave at nine."

"Where do you work?"

He blushed, green.
Green.
Okay then.

You frowned."...."

"A cat shelter."

You giggled. "Does that count as a job?"

"I get payed."

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