All In The Flick Of A Camera
His soul shatters as another reset rips through the timeline; A ripple in the seams that held everything together. The ropes snapped as he held onto the broken shard of memories that had been taken from him swiftly.
As his soul recollects, there’s a soft tune behind him. His thoughts reform into a single figure. Red. His lover. The one he had cared about most but hurt.
He was so sorry.
Sans reaches out his hand to touch the faceless skull that he’s so familiar with. The forgers dissipate and dissolve into the chasm of nothingness that is the loading screen. He knew had to fix it. Something sparked within him. He was such a fool to pretend that Red still loved him.
To pretend that Red forgot what his affection felt like.
He lets out a strangled breath as he wakes. Once again in his bed of the apartment he and his brother shared.
He was such a fool, chasing after something he knew he couldn’t get back.
He took his phone from his bedside table and dialled Red’s number. He is only met with the sound beeping. Groaning tiredly, he drags himself out of bed. Rushing out the door, fully dressed but not entirely neatly. A new determination flowed through his bones as he mounted his bicycle and peddled to where he knew Red would be.
The only thing on his mind was Red. He would fix this, he knew he would. For once there was a genuine smile that spread across his face.
He daydreams about the times when Red would talk to him about his problems. Sans would focus on his partner’s voice, he adored every bit of Red.
It felt as if they were children again. Cycling to class at 7:30, when the washing machine had confused him and when love was the one thing he couldn’t get a clasp on.
Sans loved Red so much.
His legs ached as he got off the rickety bicycle and ran into the mall. He knew Red always loved having dates here, he lived going around the shops and just exploring. When their arms were locked around each other’s and they’d just listen to their conversation topics. A time when everything was so much simpler.
Despite his lover’s denial, Red had always loved milkshakes, much like Blue had but had always drunk mustard as a cover-up. Sans really was lucky, wasn’t he?
He climbs the escalators in a rush, pushing past crowds. This reminds him of the time when Red and he would run into crowds and try to find each other, it was a dumb game Red had thought of. He was sure that even without seeing each other they would find each other in the mess of people. He believed they were soulmates. Red believed it would get better.
Sans held back his ounces of regret, there would be no use crying in public for someone who wasn’t even there.
He passed one of Red’s favourite places, a small shop It was, filled with dresses and jackets of sorts. It wasn’t the clothes that Red Cherished so dearly, it was huge wooden floors the ceiling decorated with beautiful chandeliers. It was odd. Red and Sans would pretend to shop and when the old lady who had owned the place left to go out back, Red insisted that they should just dance in the open space. It was completely silent save for Red’s small delighted giggles and the chatter coming from outside.
Red always was infatuated with the smaller things in life. The beauty and intricacies of a piece of glass or how the way a room fit with their colour palettes. Sans, on the other hand, preferred obvious beauties like a, particularly pretty flower.
As he makes his way towards the quaint milkshake cafe, Sans spots two figures departing. One having a striking red jacket and the other having a calmer, laid back orange, their phalanx entwined as the shorter of the two’s shoulder bounce in laughter as the taller smirks.
In the spur of the moment, Sans screams out his lover’s name.
“RED!” His voice echoes, the tone is filled with a rush of delight and want to be with his lover. Red tilts his head back, half of his hand is covered by the long sleeve. The other notices Sans before turning to stretch and murmuring to him something.
Sans realises something that he should’ve noticed ages ago. The jacket Red had been wearing in the previous timeline was a bold black with a fur-lined hoodie, Sans had gifted it to him after his tethered old one had given him little protection. The one Red was currently wearing, ironically, was a bloodshot red sweater that was far too big for him, it highlighted Red’s usual crimson rings that circled his eyes.
“Hey, little guy.” Words that Sans has never heard Stretch say knocks him out of his thoughts, when has Stretch ever called him ‘little guy’.
“How do you know my boyfriend?”
Oh. Of course. That’s why the world reset. Something changed.
He doesn’t know what think anymore.
“O-oh sorry, heh wrong person.” Sans’ grin falters, his eyes are cloudy with tears, his arms shake as he watches the two of them walk off, not a second glance his way.
Red wasn’t his anymore. It had been all his fault hadn’t it?
He doesn’t know what to think anymore.
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