You rip and tug at your turtleneck shirt, teeth sinking into the maroon colored cloth. (A different color if you want)
Sans stood behind you, hands placed on your wheelchair handles and shaking his head. You release the cloth in your mouth, letting out a long breath to keep calm. Before Sans could start rolling you forward, you fling your head back and wail.
"I give up! Take me back home!" You shout, turning around and giving him shiny eyes.
Sans said he was taking you to meet his friends. Okay, you were fine with that. But when his car rolled up to the theater and he started to unbuckle his seat belt, your eyes turned into little slits and, well, you fought for your life. You never wanted to come back to this place. It reminded you of your dead parents and love for dancing. You wanted to forget about your parents. Not for good, but enough that it would stop hurting. Now the dancing part? You were just jealous because you couldn't do it yourself.
"Come on, I drove all the way to your house, saw you beat the crap out of that dick Jay, then drove you all the way here. You're going in, kid."
Looking over to the large golden door in front of you, your lips purse into a thin line. Many times have you looked at the door and memorized the patterns and finger prints to where people, or monsters, would push it open. Some of the gold paint started to chip off and fall to the floor and dust clumped together in the small cracks, crevices, and dented in spots.
"I just..." You look down at your lap.
You suck in a deep breath, refusing to cry. You hadn't cried since the hospital, and that was weeks ago. But now the memories flooding back seemed to be too much and your chest started to hurt. You flinch when Sans' hand pats the top of your head, trying to comfort you the best way he can.
"You'll be fine." He gives a blunt answer to your unfinished sentence.
"But what if I'm not?" You ask, lifting up your head.
Your eyes meet with Sans who was now crouched down in front of you, head tipping to the side and smile no longer present. He looked serious; determined to help to overcome the unbearable pain. Getting you out today was his plan to help you feel better. He grabs one of your hands, peering into your face. A blush crawls up your face, nervous smile making its way to your face.
Before he says anything, he gives one of his famous lazy smiles.
"You will be. Trust me."
You put a hand to the cheek that was slapped earlier today, looking down to avoid letting Sans see the obvious blush on your face. Your eyes widen when Sans puts a finger under your chin, lifting up your head so your eyes could meet with his. He was blushing just as much as you were and his hand was shaking, letting you know he was just as nervous and uncomfortable.
As if you two felt a pull, you both start leaning in, as if you were both going to kiss. By now, his hands hand made their way from tightly holding onto your hands to onto the sides of your face. Your hands had grabbed onto his wrists, clutching the blue fabric like your life had depended on it.
"Go on and kiss de gurl!~" A wavy voice sings.
Sans retracts his hands from your face and shoots up, turning his head away and clearing the throat he didn't have. You look down, eyes wide and jaw dropped to the floor.
"Well look what we have here! You getting some, Sans?" A rough, female voice laughs.
"OH, METTATON YOU RUINED IT!" A loud voice bellows.
YOU ARE READING
Hurting Heart (Dancetale!Sans x Paralyzed!Reader)
FanfictionEver since you were little, you dreamed of being on stage and dancing to your hearts content. You were determined to get where you wanted. All spot lights on you, people cheering and clapping as your feet swept across the stage. You were so close...
