The Smell of Old Books (Sans/Reader) - ch. 19

(trigger warnings for hangovers and extreme anxiety)

Pain.

Indescribable pain.

Oh god, your head hurt so bad. It felt like a million elephants had just gone on a rampage inside your brain. The minute you opened up your eyes, you already began to regret it.

You sat there for a moment, not wanting to move in fear of making it worse. You knew you'd have to get up eventually, but maybe not right now...

You tried prying your eyes open again and felt confusion. Where were you? What had happened?

Last thing you could remember was that-

Oh yeah.

You were a grade A idiot, definitely. Sans probably hated you by now.

Although you'd love to trash talk yourself for longer, you had a stupid migraine that was the bigger issue at hand. You hadn't gotten a headache like this in years. You definitely hadn't missed them though.

You got up to move off the couch. An overwhelming feeling of nausea came up and you had to throw a hand over your mouth to prevent throwing up.

Should've known this was a bad idea from the start.

Why did you want to drink more again?

You practically ran to the bathroom just incase you couldn't prevent it the next time. You almost slammed the door behind you, then caught yourself. Sans and Papyrus were likely still asleep. You closed it and locked it softly.

The pain still hurt, but you tried to push it away to collect yourself and look somewhat presentable. You had made a fool out of yourself last night, maybe it'd just be a better idea to leave soon...

Were you in a state to leave? Honestly, you felt awful. You didn’t know what was the better choice - leave feeling like utter garbage or staying there and still feeling like garbage. Either way, you were still going to feel terrible.

Did you reject Sans? You weren’t quite sure. He looked...

He looked so defeated. Rejected.

It’s all your fault.

You took a deep breath and shook your head. Thinking like that wasn’t going to do anything for you.

But at the end of the day , it was still your fault.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and noticeably winced. Oh dear. Your hair was in tangles, up in the air in different directions. The shirt you were wearing was wrinkled and slightly askew.

Your eyes were red and puffy still, and you still felt the soreness of crying all night.

It’s your fault.

Would you have felt better if maybe...? You weren’t sure. You likely ruined the relationship between you and Sans, probably with all the monsters actually. You felt pathetic.

You turned on the faucet and splashed some cool water on your face. You tried to fix your hair in a way that was somewhat decent, wishing that you had something to put your hair up. Keeping it down was stupid, you knew it. You hated the way your hair was.

It’s your fault.

You would’ve felt weird if you had looked for some aspirin in the cabinets, so you figured you would’ve picked something up on your way home. You’d feel like hell, but...

It was better than dealing with your situation.

Maybe... Maybe you could apologize to Sans later, when you felt like more of yourself. This wasn’t a very good time to talk to him. At all.

You walked out of the bathroom and back into the living room, your headache less severe but still pounding in the back of your head.

What time was it? Your phone was out of battery and it wasn’t like you thought of bringing your charger. It was most likely before Papyrus had to go to work, whenever that was. Considering he worked at a cafe, it was probably early.

Maybe you should leave a note to Papyrus and Sans, telling them thank you or something. Did Papyrus know you were over? Like hell you were supposed to know.

You sighed, I’ll just send Papyrus a text once I get home.

Your old combat boots were right beside the worn out couch. It was odd, though, especially since you didn’t remember taking them off last night. You laced them up, trying to calm down your anxious nerves.

You felt like a jerk. Sans had really shown you nothing but kindness last night and all you did was push him away.

You pushed everyone away, both literally and figuratively. You just thought that... That these monsters could be the difference. Maybe you could be normal and have friends.

Maybe you were defective.

It’s your fault, you know.

Taking a deep breath, you got up off the couch and headed towards the door. Last night felt so different, like an entire world that was so much happier. You wondered how you screwed it all just in a manner of hours.

You put your hand on the knob to turn it before you felt your blood freeze.

Someone called your name.

You turned around and tried to stop yourself from showing emotion.

“G-Good morning,” you said quietly, “Sans.”

Sans’s expression killed you inside, looking more hurt than it had last night, “where you going?”

“I thought,” you faked a smile, “I thought I’d just go home now. It’s Sunday, right? Might be a good idea to get prepared for my work tomorrow.”

“is undyne giving you a ride?” Sans’s voice was uncharacteristic. It sounded so defeated, so rejected.

This is your fault.

You DID this to Sans.

“N-No,” you didn’t want to lie, “I was just going to take the subway. L-Like usual.”

Sans sighed loudly, “hey, ____, if this is about last night, i-”

“It’s not a big deal,” You didn’t want to hear what he had to say, “I should get going now.”

“hey,” Sans’s voice stopped you from moving, “let me take you home at least. paps wouldn’t be happy to hear that i let our friend go home like this.”

“besides,” Sans shook his head, “i’m pretty sure you feel like shit. so do i.”

You frowned, trying not to look him in the eye, “I’ll be okay. I don’t think you have a car, right? It’s not a big deal...”

The air around you was tense, and you wanted to just disappear.

“do you wanna sit on the couch?” Sans headed off towards the bathroom, “i’ll grab you an aspirin. please don’t leave yet.”

Your heart ached, but you didn’t want to hurt Sans more than you already had that night. You sat back on the couch.

He came back a moment afterwards with a glass of water and some medication. The skeleton watched you as you chugged down the water and the pills.

Sans seemed relieved when he came back in the room.

“Thank you,” you said shyly, holding the now empty glass tenderly.

“it’s no big deal,” Sans shrugged.

Although you still felt awful, the water helped. You felt like you didn’t deserve a friend as nice as Sans.

“I should probably get going now,” you trailed off, look at the skeleton to see what his reaction would be.

“lemme take you,” Sans said again, “please.”

You held onto the glass harder, wanting to shatter it like you did with everything else.

“Okay,” you said finally, a huge lump in your throat.

Sans sighed audibly and his expression lightened up almost immediately. He told you to stand up and hold onto him.

You placed the glass tenderly on the table nearby.

At first, you were too confused and too hungover to really even begin to understand what the skeleton was doing. He told you not to worry and he embraced you again, although with a lot less emotion than he had last night.

“close your eyes,” His voice sounded shaky.

You did as he asked without question and suddenly felt a ton of pressure on you. It was like someone was squeezing you for dear life. You opened up your eyes.

“Oh my god,” you let out shyly.

You stood in the middle of your messy apartment. It smelt like usual, dirty clothes with fruity perfume. You needed to clean, really.

Sans let go of you and stood away.

“How did you do that?” your voice sounded shy.

“monster techniques,” Sans smiled softly, “i’ll have to show it to you some other time.”

“Okay,” you said, not wanting to say anything serious, “Thank you, I guess. It probably would’ve taken me a lot longer to get home.”

Sans held to you your phone. Must’ve forgotten it on the couch. You awkwardly grabbed it back from him, your fingers grazing his for a moment.

You would’ve blushed, but instead you just felt a weird sense of shame.

“no problem,” Sans said, “i should get going now too. don’t wanna have paps wake up and i’m gone.”

You nodded.

Sans sighed, “look, i’m really sorry about-”

“Don’t be. It’s fine.”

“we need to talk about this at one point,” Sans said seriously, “i’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you said passively.

You waved at Sans shyly as he teleported out of your small apartment complex.

You were alone now.

The aspirin had just barely kicked in, and your headache started to slowly disappear. You didn’t want to think about anything.

Skip sad. You just felt numb.

You went back to your bedroom and stripped off your dirty outfit. You threw on some sweatpants and old shirt with it. You looked like garbage most likely, but you also felt like it too. You didn’t want to see what you looked like, honestly, feeling like it would just make you feel worse.

You threw your hair back into it’s natural state - a messy bun.

Screw everything right now.

You grabbed your phone and plugged it into the charger, hoping no one had texted you the night before. Knowing your luck, something important might’ve happened while you were messing up the only things that were good in your life.

It’s your fault.

You’re such an idiot.

I hate you.

Wanting to avoid your emotions, you grabbed your laptop and started scrolling through different websites. It didn’t make you feel any better though. All it was old high school friends being happy and successful in their lives.

Like honestly. You felt like you had done absolutely nothing impactful in your life.

You owned a stupid old bookstore that you weren’t even properly able to run. You couldn’t talk to a freaking customer without freaking out. The only reason you kept it was because of mom, and she likely was shunning you right now - wherever she was.

I’m so fucking pathetic.

You got up and walked to the bathroom, pacing around the small area. Your breathing was frantic and you felt like you were beginning to go lightheaded.

Mom hates me, doesn’t she? That’s all I wanted was to make her and dad proud, but... I’ve done the exact opposite, haven’t I? I’ve ruined my friendship with Sans and everyone else. I can’t talk to anyone right. I’m so stupid, so stupid!

I wish I could be normal.

All I’ll ever be is this failure. This socially awkward failure.

I can’t even have a stupid crush on anyone without messing it up.

All I do is fail.

All I do is cry.

All I do is whine. 
All I do is take up space.

Why?

Why am I alive?

You caught your reflection in the mirror again.

Dark circles were underneath your eyes, and you looked like hell. You looked even worse than you had at Papyrus’s. That trashy outfit you were wearing wasn’t helping you feel any better either.

Your chest felt like it was beginning to collapse on itself.

You stared at yourself.

“You’re such a failure!” You screamed, “I hate you so much!”

The mirror didn’t say anything back, and instead your reflection looked just as awful as you did yourself. You took a deep, shaky breath and tried to get your head back on.

Nothing was going to work.

It’s all your fault.

You brought your fist up and punched the mirror with all of your strength.