[But they think they might. Accusatory tones and disappointed glances; killed again, yelled again, selfish again. Those were the type of looks that ripped the fabric of the world from golden corridors to golden flowers, because they could do better. They could be better, with an arsenal of forethought and anticipating people's every reaction behind them.
Can't do that anymore. It's just them.]
I really like Sans; he's nice. But we were never really friends, were we?
no subject
[But they think they might. Accusatory tones and disappointed glances; killed again, yelled again, selfish again. Those were the type of looks that ripped the fabric of the world from golden corridors to golden flowers, because they could do better. They could be better, with an arsenal of forethought and anticipating people's every reaction behind them.
Can't do that anymore. It's just them.]
I really like Sans; he's nice. But we were never really friends, were we?