Chapter DOS

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A/N: Heyllo! I was completely shocked that this story has gotten more than forty reads after only one chapter! My most popular story didn't even have thirty until the third chapter! So, needless to say I really wanted to do well with next one. I can't believe I actually was able to easily write more than 3,700 words for just this chapter. Anyway, just a quick note that for the purposes of this story, Frisk will be a girl and Napstablook will be male. Also, the reader will remain gender neutral as long as I can keep it so.

Alright, without further ado,(*puts on Mettaton shirt*) lets do this.

___________This chapter brought to you by TEMMIE FLAKES___________

"I don't believe we've met before, beautiful."

That unnaturally pink eye roved over you, taking in what you wore, your half-done hair, and you subconsciously thought that you were sweating like a pig and your face was flushed due to the heat. His gaze made you uncomfortable, like you were being scrutinized.

And the way he addressed you sent a chill down your spine, making you shudder imperceptibly. Beautiful. He had called you beautiful. You hadn't ever been addressed like that, and you could not imagine why he had chosen that particular word. At this moment you believed that ragged or maybe disheveled or even haggard would be closer to your description. Definitely not beautiful. Even the way he said it-brrr.

However, further taking in how he had spoken and the fact that the primary colors of his design appeared to be black and pink, you figured that this guy would probably address a Dumpster as "sweetheart." You kept that in mind as he continued, saying, "I'm Mettaton, darling, the Underground's premier star. But I assume you already knew that." He reached out a hand.

'Okay, so he's slightly full of himself. Still, with that much fame, who wouldn't be?' you thought to yourself. You took the proffered hand and replied, "I'm (Y/N), Frisk's older sibling. I have heard a little bit about you."

He shook your hand lightly. You absentmindedly pondered if the glove was covering his hand, or if the glove was his hand. You chided yourself silently for thinking something that strange. Why were you even thinking about what his hand was made of?

Suddenly, something registered in his face. "You said that you had heard about me before? Do the humans actually know who I am already?!" He appeared ecstatic with a smile inching across his metal face and his one visible eye wide with joy. He was so obviously elated that you genuinely felt bad with having to tell him that, no, in fact, you and Frisk were the only humans who knew of him.

Mettaton's face fell for a moment, but it soon passed and he was the same eccentric robotic star that you had heard about again. "Well," he began, "I'll have to fix that, won't I? Soon humanity will be eating out of the palm of my hand!" His eye glinted with something that appeared akin to mischievousness. He chuckled strangely before turning from you and saying, "Anyway, Frisk, why didn't you tell me you had an older sibling?"

The small child shrugged dismissively, "It didn't seem like it would matter much. You tried several times to kill me. I couldn't really talk."

Your eyes widened in shock. This...thing had tried to murder Frisk? A small innocent child of ten years? You couldn't believe it.

"He what?!" You snapped.

"It was all in good fun," Mettaton tried to assure you.

"All in good fun! You tried to murder my little sister 'All in good fun'? On more than one occasion it sounds like. Frisk, why are you even forgiving this, freak." You spat, infuriated.

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