In Plain Sight - A Horrortale Ficlet
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
Papyrus looked up from the seam he was sewing as Ribbon spoke, tired, sunken eyes drawing in the sight of her as she sat quietly, politely on the edge of the sofa, her face pointed in his general direction with a soft smile on her lips. Sensitive, the skeleton’s cheeks flushed a little, before he busied himself once again with the task at hand.
“It is...” he said slowly. His voice phased through his locked, crooked teeth. He was getting better; faster, more talkative, but it still took a lot of concentration to be able to speak without physically chattering his teeth in anunication. Chattering hurt. Time spent with Ribbon, needing to speak so he could help her, was proving to be very good practise, though.
“Who would have thought that monsters would have such a hard time identifying humans?” she mused, reaching up and idly toying with the fraying edge of bandage stretched over her eyes “Especially since they’re in such high demand.”
“A rare breed, here,” Papyrus replied quietly, frowning into his stitching as his needle and thread jammed. He gave it a gentle tug, with no give, and sighed, before threading the needle backwards to attempt to untie the knot “I’ve only ever seen maybe two or three other humans, myself.”
“Crazy,” the springs in the old, dusty sofa creaked with Ribbon’s weight as she shifted, slowly feeling herself into a position where she could prop her head in her hands on the arm and face him. The skeleton’s blush deepened, making him frown, as she somehow looked at him without seeing “But convenient! It means I can go out more! I don’t have to spend so much time alone.”
The pips of light in Papyrus’ stark, hollowed sockets flicked up at her, with that, his heart twinging. Concerned, he asked ”Do you get lonely?”
Ribbon’s laugh was gentle and warm, much like everything else about her “I guess. In a sense. Not a cold, heavy kind of lonely... I think it’s more that I’m just looking forward to spending more time around you... If you’ll have me.”
A surprised laugh creaked out of him, with an incredulous blink, his chest swelling. Almost too eagerly, he cried “Of course! Sorry.... Of course... It will still be dangerous, though. We’ll need to be careful. But this cloak will help.”
“It will help with the bastard cold, as well,” kneeling, Ribbon sat back a little on her feet and was quiet for a few more minutes, as Papyrus continued sewing. She listened to the tiny score of thread, and tilted her head to one side in contemplation as her friend moved the mass of fabric in his lap, creating a soft rustling sound as he proceeded with a new section. A few more minutes of silence, which were then broken with “We can go for walks.”
“That will be nice...” he mused fondly.
“I guess an advantage to living somewhere so cold and snowy is that snowmen become permanent fixtures... Assuming it doesn’t encounter anyone too mean-spirited.”
“Any snowman we build together will be guarded with my life,” Papyrus said firmly, with a grin, half joking.
Ribbon laughed aloud, making his heart flutter “Our son.”
That fluttering turned into a drumbeat in the skeleton’s big, hollow chest, trying to keep his hands steady as he concentrated with immense difficulty on finishing this damn cloak, instead of thinking about the implications of fathering a snow-child with this sweet, little human. A permanent resident not only in his home, but in his mind.
No further words were said as he polished off the project, before he lifted himself out of his seat and held the finished product infront of him, at arms length. This cloak that he’d made for his friend was so much smaller than him; he loved it simply because it was for her.
“I’m finished,” he quietly announced, and Ribbon huffed excitedly, quickly moving off the sofa to stand at attention in front of him, waiting patiently with arms spread for him to put it on for her. He chuckled, charmed “I hope you like it.”
He slipped the hole of the cloak over her head, and the fabric fell around her, heavy and thick. She hugged herself, grinning “It’s so warm!”
Papyrus watched her fondly, his face flushing and heart fluttering as always, as Ribbon inspected his handiwork with her hands. It was fashioned out of an old blanket that had worn in places, but was still thick and wooly and appropriately warm for tiny humans. Her finger tips traced the seams of two large patches towards the hem of the cloak and her attention prickled into her posture, her head drawing back “Ooh, are these patches?”
“They’re nice. One is silky... The other is fleecy.”
She turned her head upwards towards him “So what colours am I sporting?”
“The blanket is dark blue,” he began, pausing to laugh as she posed like a runway model “It’s got a nice big hood that you can flip up, that will cover your face, so you’re a little less obviously-a-human... And... The patches the big one is a green and yellow zigzag pattern; and then other is red with white polkadots.”
Papyrus had to bring a hand to cover his mouth as she grinned up at him, as lovely and adorable as ever, making his heart sing and his face burn a deep orange as she said “It’s perfect.”
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