Old Wounds (Frans One-Shot) Re upload

Trapped Without Trust

I pull my favorite light blue oversized sweater over my head that straightens out to reveal a wide purple stripe running across my abdomen. Looking in the mirror in front of me, my lips lift slightly at the corners and my hazel eyes twinkle contently at the outfit I had created to go out in. Underneath the sweater, I'm wearing short brown shorts that stop just above the knee, and on my feet are my favorite pair of brown leather combat boots, and finally, my brown hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. It's simple and comfortable, just the way I like it.

I'm about to head downstairs to say goodbye to my parents when I hear a quiet knock on the bedroom door behind me. Turning around, my older brother, Asriel, comes into view. Asriel is two years older than me, but he acts like a clingy 10-year-old towards me. He always has. I notice his silky platinum blonde hair fall down his side ending at the middle of his waist and framing a face that threatened his infamous puppy dog pout. I know exactly what he wants and I put a hand up in front of him to halt my brother who had started opening his mouth to say something, cutting him off to say what I wanted instead. "No, I'm not staying home to entertain you, and no, you can't come with me. Go back to your room and go hang out with your girlfriend or something Azzy." My words sounded rehearsed like I had said it a million times already, which I have. But Asriel just had to try anyway.

"Please Frisk, Leah and I broke up today, and I'm so sad and in need of my brother's loving comfort and support." Asriel pleaded with me, but it was so fake that I just rolled my eyes.

"Well you don't seem that sad about it, and this seems like a good opportunity to get another girlfriend and then break-up in a week because "It just doesn't feel right anymore", or you know you could call up one of your numerous friends from university." Despite the incoming retaliation from Asriel, I just push past him and walk casually down the stairs, "You're not coming with me, end of story." And that was that. I didn't mind his clinginess most of the time, but it gets quite annoying when I'm trying to go and hang out with my friends.

As I walked downstairs, I was met with the warm smile of my adoptive mother, Toriel. She always smelled of butterscotch-cinnamon pie and the golden flowers that she tended to in the back garden. A loving and caring woman, she was one of the few people I knew that I trusted enough to form a meaningful relationship with. Having said that, I welcomed Toriel's embracing hug, the nice aroma swirl around me peacefully. Pulling away, Mom lovingly speaks to me,

"You look so adorable Frisk, are you ready to head out?" I nodded at her, the aroma still lingering. "I made some pie to bring to your friends." Of course, she did. I can't tell her that where he's going isn't appropriate for bringing your own food. I mean, you don't really bring your own food to a bar.

"Mom, you know how much I love your pie, but it would be hard to bring on my motorcycle you know?" She looked a little disappointed at me but I know I can't let her know I'm going to a bar on the opposite side of town. She would freak out. Y'know, mother stuff.

"Are you sure honey? I can pack it up for you." I lowered my head. I actually do want it, Mom makes the best pie.

"I'm sure mom," I say quick goodbyes and reluctantly walk away from the smell of security.

Opening the front door, cool Fall air fills the surrounding area. Instinctively breathing in the crisp wind invigorates me and shut the door behind me. In the garage sits my motorcycle, a black Suzuki V-Strom 650, to be more specific. Seeing it reminds me of the hard work I put into saving up for this thing, I even stopped hanging out with friends so I wouldn't spend any money on drinks or entertainment. I got a lot of grief for that. Though, it was probably for the best that I didn't stick with them, they seemed almost happy not to have me around as they scurried off to the movie theatre or the mall. I shake those thoughts out of my head, I only want to remember the good part of earning this. I eagerly reach out to get on the bike and the cold handles send a slight chill through my body, but the good kind, the kind of chill that just reminds you that you're still alive. And putting on that helmet never made me feel so stimulated.