-Where are you going, superstar?- Alan asked, grabbing his wrist with cold-hearted rage. -I have no time to waste.- Mettaton hissed. He pulled his arm away from his hold, but Thomas was right behind him. Before he managed to process what was happening, he was sitting on the ground surrounded by the four O’Dennis siblings, like four guards around a helpless chained up prisoner. He held his breath, ready to put up his best performance to date. "Today we have Mettaton starring in his best role: someone who has control over his life" "Sugar. I need sugar" he tried to say, hoping that Undyne would at least grant him the mercy of letting him go. Maybe, if he was lucky enough, he would have made it to the school bar somehow. His lips shuddered like guitar chords, a small drop of spit streaming from the edges and mixing up with the salty, unpleasant taste of fresh tears. The sound he managed to produce was some kind of shaky hissing that sounded like anything but human speech. And he knew all too well he wasn’t sobbing for the sugar loss. He was a long-haired pink clothes-wearing nail varnish-donning high heeled boots-sporting makeup-applying girly boy who couldn’t last a day without sipping sugar and was bawling his eyes out for a pathetic little fight. What chances did he have in life?
Preview for my two-chapters #Presitale fan fiction in honor of the beautiful Asziirose
