Pyromantic

Secert Skills and Shady Deals

*Reader's POV*

    His voice was like liquid smoke, it was smooth, yet rough, and it was melodic in the best kind of way. You turned towards him to confirm it was he who spoke. He met your eyes with his glasses, gesturing towards a neon sign on the far wall above a jukebox.

    "Grillby's ?" the elemental nodded. "Is that your name?" another nod. "I don't think we actually got introduced," you held out your hand, "I'm (y/n), nice to meet you."

    He reached out and took your hand in his. You were expecting it to be very hot, or at the very least warmer and less corporeal compared to some of the other hands you've shaken in your days, but it wasn't. Grillby's hand was just as solid and safe to touch as any other hand you've touched.

    It was warm, but not burning hot, and smooth, like skin, it just felt so much more - alive . You saw the tiny flames that ran all over his hand, and that licked at your own. You both held hands for a while, until the clearing of a nonexistent throat made you retract your hand from Grillby's.

    "you know, (y/n), you didn't seem so chill back there," Sans had joked, but was serious all the same. "mind explainin' to me what was up?"

    You straightened up, bracing yourself. "I, uh, might have mentioned earlier," you twiddled your fingers, looking down at the spotless wood floor. "I have a bit of a problem with people using the word py- pyro-" you stuttered, hating the word in your mouth, let alone anyone else's.

    "pyromaniac?" Sans had asked, innocently, but you still hated it. While it wasn't directed towards you this time, the word was still hurtful.

    You just nodded your head. "I'm sorry for almost starting something, let alone in a police station ." You sighed, looking up and focusing on Grillby's hand to calm down. It wasn't like lighting up your own fire, but the sight would be enough to chill you out. "Heh, you might say I can get a bit hot headed , at times." You joked, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

    "well," Sans began, lightening the mood further. "if your mom's anything of an example, it wouldn't surprise me." You both laughed at this, Grillby had left, going off into another room.

    "Oh, shoot!" you suddenly said, making Sans jump and Grillby poke his head out from a doorway. "My mom!" you quickly dug in your bag for your phone, then saw it was dead. "Hey, is there a phone I could use to call my mom and let her know where I am?" Sans, now understanding of your urgency, pulled out his own phone and handed it to you. "Thank you! I'm sure she's raising Cain trying to figure out where I am."

    You quickly punched in the number, then stepped to the side of the room, waiting for the tone to pick up. Sans, respecting your want of privacy, went and sat down at the bar. Grillby came out a second later with a glass of water and a bottle of- ketchup ?, setting them both down in front of Sans, who picked up the ketchup bottle and scooted the water to the side.

    "Hello?"

    "Mom, it's-"

    "(y/n)!" ah, there went your hearing. "Where in the world are you? I've been waiting out here for 15 minutes! I went in and they said you had left! With the two men that were there! Where are you?!" she sounded hysterical, and was probably making wild gestures in the car as pedestrians walked by in concern.

    "Mom, it's okay, I'm sorry I didn't let you know I was leaving, it all just happened a bit suddenly," you threw an accusatory glance at Sans, who looked away quickly, proving your theory that he was eavesdropping. "Yes, I'm with the two men from the station. Yes, I'm safe; I trust them. It's okay. I'll get a cab back to my place after a while, and I'll meet you tomorrow for lunch, alright?"