Heavy panting filled the air, along with the soft rattle of bones.
The two skeletons were covered in a sheet of magical sweat as they face each other.
Error Sans's mismatch eyes stare intensely into the ever blinking changing ones of Ink Sans.
The glitchy skeleton tugs slightly on his blue strings, causing the artist to grit his teeth hard. The soulless one's hold on his long brush staff tightens.
Error was ready. Ink was ready.
With a sudden jerk forward, Error whips his strings in front then harshly behind him; Ink cries out in pain as both his hands began to crack. But steadies himself enough to swing his brush around, smashing into Error's skull. As error signs blind his vision, he gave the strings one final pull and was rewarded with a sickening crack.
Knowing this was the end of their battles, Error reaches out opening a tear in the space to the anti-void. Hurrying through he allows himself to drop to his knees, no doubt breaking his caps, laying on his front he felt still in danger. Remembering that the tear was open, he quickly summons his power to close it.
Rolling onto his back his breathing was laboured, all he could see was error floaters, all he could hear was deafening static. Gathering up his string he frowns lightly when he felt a boney hand.
Error let out an undignified squeak and does a fast odd crab walk backwards, stopping a short pace away, awaiting an attack.
Blinking he waits and waits.
No attack comes.
Sitting cross-legged now, he feels about once more. And once more found a hand.
Just a hand. And then he crashes.
Error sat there for seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months... years? Well maybe not that long, but he was never truly sure, he had rebooted a while ago he knew that much.
The wounds had long since healed, his breathing was even out, error floaters gone, the voices chatting away in the background, the glitchy skeleton stares at the hand in his hands. He remembers someone telling him that Ink does not dust like normal monsters and here was the proof.
Error starts studying the hands, running his fingers carefully and gently in every crack and line. At last his laces his fingers with artist's, feeling the strangest wave of heat washing over his broken soul.
This does not surprise him, he felt like this before when it came to Ink, after all Error was holding hands with the one he loved.
Too bad, they were always trying to kill each other.