Chapter Ten: Green with Envy

1K 31 21
                                    

❤︎ Chara's List of Emotions ❤︎
Red: Anger
Blue: Sadness
Light Blue: Loneliness
Yellow: Happiness
Blue-Gray: Guilt
Aqua: Self-Consciousness
Pink: Love
•  •  •

     Chara was never much for lounging in the living room. If she was going to relax in silence, she'd keep to her room.
     In fact, it used to be a lot easier to do that before, when she was blind. Now, she's aware of the loneliness trapped in her quarters, as if the color-changing diffuser unleashes the tiring emotion alongside a lavender scent.
     Now, Chara often takes to the sofa, with her legs thrown over the arm while her fingers tapped rapidly against what Papyrus called a 'rectangular electronic', with furrowed brows and little knowledge of what's around her in the physical world.
     Not that she's used to being real. Chara also tended to have random moments of realization, standing still in shock whenever bumping into someone.
     The small spaceship darting across her small screen shot out small red beams, sending other, more sinister looking ships to oblivion. The moment the beeping of her device was suddenly overshadowed by soft giggles and loud 'pop's was the moment Chara finally acknowledged her surroundings.

     She gradually lowers the device towards her stomach, contemplating whether or not she cares enough to find out where the sounds came from. Her decision is set in stone when she hears them again, louder and more annoying.
     Chara looks up, and nearly recoils in revulsion. Sans and Frisk are nuzzling and pecking and snuggling and it's all kinds of gross.
Just ignore it, she thinks to herself countless times, but Chara can't bring herself to stop glancing, to stop hearing. How long have they even been there? Chara can't remember anyone ever entering the room, and she would've seen them when she'd first sat down.
     It was clear, with the information, that Chara was here first.
     "Can you two stop? That's disgusting." Chara's expression is one of boredom rather than contempt. They have the freedom to 'express' themselves, but did they have to do it around her? She is merely making a request, a rudely expressed one, but at least she isn't glaring.
     "It's not disgusting, Chara. You just don't understand." Frisk explains in a way that shouldn't feel belittling, but it does.
     Sans silently adds, "she's just a little envious, didn't get any of this." Frisk gives him a disapproving look, ready to make him apologize, but Chara already stood up, headed to her room with that angry heat clouding her senses.
     Sans ignores Frisk and just has to add: "and probably never will." Frisk is scolding him now, Sans claiming that he had been joking to mess with her. Chara stopped in her tracks the second that opinion escaped him.
She spins around, snatching her coat from the hallway's rack, and bolts out the front door, Frisk's call already distant.
     Chara had always been a runner, especially before she fell. She'd hurry away from all of her problems, trying fruitlessly to escape. It never worked.
     This time, however, she's running to get help, and luckily, it's not that far away. It's a block from Frisk's house, and just past the picket fence that surrounds her goat parents' cottage.
     The skelebros' house is the only place Papyrus is allowed to practice cooking. Frisk was livid when she exited her room to be met with a kitchen splattered with tomato sauce and.. who knows what else. They'd spent hours cleaning while Chara pretended to be asleep in her room. Henceforth, Papyrus was banned from ever cooking in Frisk's house, and it was to be that way forevermore.
Chara ignores the sting of the cold, sloppily zipping up her jacket as she ran. She didn't stop even when she nearly slipped due to promptly turning when she made it to their staircase.
Chara lunges up the steps, nearly slamming into the door. She has to grip the handle, her feet failing her on their newly added porch. Chara fumbles to press the doorbell, quickly readjusting herself and attempting to calm her rapid breaths.
The door opens gradually, Papyrus, loud and unmissable, grunting and letting out rushed and almost indecipherable apologies. Chara tries not to frown and kick the door in. In fact, she nearly loses her patience due to that grueling sensation in her gut. It was produced as soon as she noticed Frisk and Sans being lovers, as Frisk calls it, and it only increased the moment Sans opened his fat mouth.
It burns now, and Chara is slowly realizing how weird it's going to be when she has to explain to Papyrus why she sprinted over here. She feels like a desperate puppy, and now she burns even more.
It's no different than before, when Sans would say something that made her feel vulnerable, or the first time Papyrus smiled tenderly at her. Chara can't stand it.
"CHARA! WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE? CARE TO JOIN ME? I'M MAKING HONEY!" Chara snaps up, her thinking process disrupted. Papyrus has his ideal chef hat on, and an apron that's covered in God knows what.
"Hey Papyrus. I-" Chara pauses. "Did you say.. honey?"
"YES! THE GREAT PAPYRUS EXPERIENCED THIS WONDERFUL TREAT ON SOME OF FRISK'S CEREAL! I WANTED TO MAKE SOME MYSELF!" Chara stares at him, dumbfounded, but decides she won't crush his hopes.
"I hope it turns out well, but can you take a break? I need to talk to you." Papyrus beams and allows her entry. Their house is as warm as she remembers, but Chara doesn't dare sneak even single glance at what might have become of the kitchen. Instead, she bounds to his room, Papyrus speeding in front of her so he can open the door.
It's a calm moment of silence between them. Chara's feet now touch the floor when sitting on his bed, and Papyrus is patient. It's not uncomfortable or awkward, either. Chara feels content under this noiseless blanket, but there's also no fear in revealing her voice.
"So," she begins, Papyrus now attentive, perking up and focusing on her. "Sans said that I was.."
Envious, the word was an ache to her stomach and she didn't even know why. What did it mean to be envious? Are you envious toward something? Of something? For something? It made Chara's brain throb.
She misses Papyrus' face fall, misunderstanding where her anger is directed due to her look of frustration. "CHARA, IF SANS IS STILL BOTHERING YOU, I WILL SPEAK TO HIM MYSELF." Chara immediately starts shaking her head furiously.
"I'm not mad.. I think.. I'm just confused. He called me envious, but I don't know what.. is it bad? Did I do something wrong? Because given the situation I was clearly justified so—" Papyrus clears his throat and Chara falls silent. He lets out a hearty chuckle, only increasing Chara's mentioned confusion.
"What—?"
"I'LL TELL YOU, DON'T GET AHEAD OF YOURSELF." Papyrus adjusts his position on his race car bed, facing Chara a little more directly. She gazes at him intently, forcing herself not to fidget and steadying her hands in her lap.
"YOU SEE, ENVY IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE UPSET ABOUT LACKING SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE ELSE HAS. IT—" Chara has drowned him out, her nose involuntarily scrunching.
Lacking? All she saw was Frisk and Sans being some sicker version of pink, like syrup spilt onto a counter. You forget about the lovely addition it provides to pancakes, grossed out by the sticky mess you know you'll have a hard time cleaning. Frisk nor Sans have anything she wants, and she certainly doesn't want what they share on couches when someone is clearly trying to concentrate.
"CHARA?" She jolts, akin to the awakening from a nightmare. It had yet to reach her, nipping at the edge of her pleasant dream.
"Sorry, I spaced out." Papyrus eyes her skeptically.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO CAUSE SANS TO SAY SUCH A THING?" Chara blinks a few unnecessary times. Something about telling him triggers that heat to rise to her face, and her stomach lurches uncomfortably. There's no logical reason not to tell him, so she does despite her body's opposite opinion.
"He and Frisk were being all kissy. I thought it was gross, and he thought I was.. envious." Why does the emotion feel like venom on her tongue? It's like she's betraying herself just by saying it.
Papyrus must sense her thoughts crumbling into a state of disarray, because he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing a few circles into her until he feels her relax. He keeps his hand there, and Chara predicts that she may need more consoling after he's finished speaking.
"EITHER MY BROTHER WAS ATTEMPTING TO GET INTO YOUR HEAD, WHICH IS NOT SOMETHING I HAVE KNOWN HIM TO DO, OR PERHAPS YOU DESIRE THE VERY EXPERIENCE THEY WERE PARTICIPATING IN!" Papyrus' words are unfortunately factual. Sans isn't manipulative, but boy does Chara wish he was. There's no excuse present for her, the answer is clear and maddening.
Chara strangely wants a higher level of intimacy. Is that not the weird version of pink she was dealing with mere days ago? Affectionate, that's how Papyrus described her. She found herself not wanting to admit to it, but the truth is the truth. This truth, however, is far less acceptable.
"YOU SEE," Papyrus continues, "THERE'S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THIS," he then takes her hand, allowing his thumb to glide against her palm. Chara is familiar with this, habitually taking his hand without asking whenever that weird mix of pink and light blue take over her. He always happily accepts, so Chara never needs to insist.
"AND THIS." Papyrus leans down, Chara looking up at him curiously. When his wall of teeth press cordially against her forehead, she stills, that same aggravating heat invading her cheeks against her will. Because this, this is what she wanted. So intense, yet such a simple gesture. It should mean nothing, but for some reason, it overtakes her. Air seems trapped in her lungs, and she wouldn't be surprised if she is trembling.
Papyrus moves away too quickly. Chara wishes she could pull him back in, but her mind objects rather loudly. Instead she raises her legs, resting her feet on the mattress in order to hug her knees. She feels an abnormal combination of pink, light blue, red, and who knows what else. Maybe none of the three, maybe something new.
   "Wha.. what color is it?" Weird, Chara isn't known to stutter. She either thinks it through or says nothing at all.
"HM?" Papyrus is scrutinizing her with eyes she can't describe, but she blames it on her current inability to process any thought that comes to mind.
"Envy. What color is it?"
"OH! I BELIEVE IT'S GREEN! BE SURE TO REMEMBER IT!" He stands, offering her one more grin before walking to the door. "STAY AS LONG AS YOU LIKE, BUT I MUST RETURN TO MY ENDEAVORS!" The door is shut gently, and Chara stares longingly at the light underneath the hinged barrier, knowing he's out there, so incredibly close, but emotionally far. She shuts her eyes for a moment, saddened by the loss of warmth.
It wasn't the same as Sans and Frisk. They were playful, casual, no thought put into it. It wasn't even in the same place, but Chara's brain shuts that discovery down immediately.
A free hand drifts it's way to her forehead, but it falters. Chara doesn't want to smudge it or accidentally wipe it away. She allows the tingle to caress her skin until it fades.
In the soundless room, Chara's brows furrow, and her right hand now resides against her chest. Huh? Why is her heart beating so fast?
Nobody is looking at her. Nobody is oddly being kind. No stranger is attempting conversation.
She's alone, Papyrus is gone, but his kiss is fresh on her forehead. It's there, she likes it, but she also enjoys the way his hand fits in hers, and how his smile can bring forth one of her own. None of those have ever caused her heart to race. This sensation is different, but it should feel normal regardless.
It's only Papyrus.
So why?

•  •  •
Author's Note

Ooooooh
IT'S HAPPENING KIDS
OHMAGAWD
NEXT CHAPTER ABOUT TO BE ANGSTY AF
lol okay I needa chill

SO! It's almost the last week of school, and all my teachers decided:
"Hey! Let's just assign projects so we don't have to teach during class because they'll be working the whole time!"
I've been busy, basically. I apologize for procrastinating.
I'll see you sometime next week!
Thanks for reading! BYEEE

Colors | Chara x PapyrusWhere stories live. Discover now