They sighed. This was supposed to be easy. Grillby had taught them a little on how to bake before his business went under, but this was different. They never imagined that this would be the result.
"I'm sorry," they muttered, sliding the pastry underneath the wooden bench. They rubbed their bare arms once or twice, their hands brushing against the brim of their black sleeves. The cargo shorts around their knees crinkled slightly as they stood.
The human held still after straightening their back for a moment or so, their mind swirling about with thoughts, head hanging against their drooped shoulders. What would Chara say? What would their papa say? Temmie? Uncle Papy? So disappointed… And leaving the poor thing here of all places. They should be giving it to someone who could actually care for it properly. But no, Frisk was here, leaving the poor thing to rot under a secluded bench in a remote area of waterfall.
"I'm sorry," they muttered again, wiping the water from their hazel eyes and lifting their purple-striped coat up off of said seat. Those eyes didn't dare leave the object under the bench as they put it on, more tears spilling out that they didn't bother to dot away. Not for the time being.
The silence hung over them like a wool blanket in a warm spring. They nudged the pastry further out of sight with the tip of their black boot, but it was still visible in the corners of their mind.
They cupped their face in their hands, a few tears stinging their cheeks and legs trembling slightly under their weight. It was somewhat difficult to see, partially because of the water filling their eyes, partially because of the hands shielding them from any input, mostly because of the poison flooding their system, but they kept balance. The feeling was awful. It wasn't like there was much else they could do. It was awful, but what other choice was there? Keep the poor thing and abuse it? Give it to the roomate with the mind of a child? Hand it over to their dad, who was too busy training to so much as come home for dinner? Or their uncle, who...well, Papyrus might actually be a decent candidate, if only he had more spare time on his hands.
Frisk turned around but slid on the damp Earth, their feet giving out underneath them. They were just close enough to land with their bum on top of the bench, even if it meant letting out a small whimper in the process. They reached for the near-empty beer bottle and cradled it before taking a final swig.
Out of liquor, the human sniffled. Their shoulders hung over their knees, back arched, head down, and they felt a few more tears roll of onto their shorts.
"I just wasn't ready for the responsibility."
Too short for an actual chapter, too short to be an independent story...hmph. Guess I'll just post this here.
And also, for anyone looking for the latest EquationTale, I posted on Friday. Meaning go back a chapter and you'll get to see MK :3
Still deciding whether or not I wanna post on Fridays or Sundays. Until anyone says otherwise, I'm leaning more towards Fridays.