Colors | Chara x Papyrus

Chapter Nine: Be Intimate with Me

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Chara had explained her issue to a Papyrus a few days ago.
About an hour before, Chara had an itch, a strong one. Occasionally when she looks at Papyrus it pops up, then she's deep in his embrace and it fades.
It's strong in her heart, and it only builds up until she grows incredibly frustrated with added loneliness.
"WELL, THAT'S LOVE!" Chara can't deny that her nose scrunched up at the naming of said emotion.
"What color is that?" Papyrus had reached over, pressing a finger into one of her rosy cheeks.
"Oh, pink," Chara identified as he nodded. She was never a big fan of that color, it was too sugary and bright, just like love seemed to be. "I understand."
After his lesson, Chara concluded that love was a sickly sweet feeling that took over your cheeks, stomach, mind— basically everything— and you were helpless to stop it until the emotion fades.
     Now, she desperately wanted to be held. She felt every sign that pointed to love, but she was certain this wasn't it. It's a light buzz, faint yet powerful. How is it that this feeling had evaded her until now?

     She tried giving herself a hug, curled up in a ball on her bed, stroking her arms that were warmed by an orange sweater. Nothing. The buzz's strength was only increasing, driving Chara mad. She retrieved the blue bear from the top of her closet, the same one from her trip to the carnival with Papyrus. She held it close, but it did nothing. Perhaps the color was putting her off. Chara embraced purple cats to yellow alligators. Not a single one did her any good.
     They weren't warm or breathing. She wanted the beat of one's heart to be a lullaby, for them to card their fingers through her hair and adore her until the buzz was a mere memory.
     Chara left her room the moment that self conversation was finished, off the locate Papyrus in order to learn and receive.
     He wasn't in the living room, and his voice wasn't in apparent distance. Frisk was there, however, eyes scanning a piece a literature Chara recognized to be one of Toriel's
      "Hey, Frisk," she called out, the literal fallen angel immediately looking up to greet her with a grin Chara's all too familiar with. "Do you know where Papyrus is?" Frisk's smile only widened, but briefly. She's back to her book in seconds.
      "He's off with Undyne, who knows what they're up to.. or what they're wrecking.." Frisk answers, trailing off into a mumble that Chara couldn't hear, but she'd already received the answer she needed and didn't want.
     In the end, Chara is left seated beside Frisk, that buzz a nuisance she needed to be rid of immediately.

- - -

     Frisk seems comfortable beside her. She's secure with two cushions to aid her back with support, and a book Chara supposes is good considering Frisk's neglect to look up or even speak.
     Chara didn't want her to glance up and catch her staring, though. Something about Frisk made that buzz rumble throughout her body, until she was near twitching with need for contact of some sort. That only confirms her suspicions of this feeling. It was definitely not love, not for Frisk.
     They've gotten closer, but not closer in that regard. Chara now wants to be closer, which is entirely different from the other two forms. It's not because it's her either. Papyrus would've been her first choice, because he wouldn't have questioned it. He knows what she's dealing with and how to help in a way that finally brought a smile to grace Chara's lips. However, he's not around and Frisk just happens to be here.
     "Frisk?" Her voice quivers against her will and Frisk, being the irritatingly observant girl she is, is quick to look her way, concerned, but masks it with a soft expression.
     "Yes, what is it Chara?" Chara feels like a bomb ready to explode, she's used to this burning, but not familiar with its meaning.
"Uhm," she starts, and Frisk now looks expectant. It's not often Chara falters, so in her head it must be serious. Chara wants to let her know how much it isn't, and how she's just... warm? God, she's been brought face to face with this heat and yet never acquired its name.
"Can I hold your hand?" She slurs, and immediately wants to shoot up and run back to her room. It's just such an awkward request. Frisk and Sans never converse about their needs, he just slides his hand into hers, and they magically speak with their eyes.
Frisk is surprised, Chara suspected this, but what she didn't expect was for Frisk to begin grinning like an idiot.
Chara looks at her quizzically, brows threaded. "What?"
"I didn't think you liked affection! That's adorable!"
Chara's searing, an insult or smart response are beyond her abilities now.
Frisk moves closer, reaching down to interlock their hands. It's warm and familiar, and unlike Papyrus', it's smooth and.. has flesh and skin.
It's not that she dislikes Papyrus' affection, but she grows uncomfortable rather quickly due to the texture of his bones and gloves. Chara doesn't want him to change though, that's a part of him, and she wouldn't alter it for anything.
     Frisk's other hand comes up suddenly, seating itself on Chara's head. She soothes her with gentle strokes, fingers burrowing underneath her hair to massage her scalp.
     Chara, almost instinctively, leans against Frisk's shoulder, her hand following as Chara nestles into her side. She sighs a little louder than intended, the effect of her intense state of relaxation, and is awake long enough to hear Frisk let out an amused chuckle.