Hidden Language

Chapter Three

When you got home, you sent a text to Papyrus to let him know that you had made it safely. He never responded to you.

You showered and got ready for bed, tired from a day full of dancing. You climbed into bed and hugged your pillow tightly.

Even though you'd only known him for a few days and danced with him a handful of times, you felt like you'd lost your best friend. Your soul ached to see him again, to go back and keep yourself from telling him you'd been awake. Or, better yet, to let him know you were awake on the couch when Sans had come in.

You let yourself cry then, mourning the loss of a relationship that hadn't even had a chance to start. You could have been so good for him. You knew it, down to the deepest depths of your being; you could have helped him. And he, in return, could have been good for you.

Over the next few days, you tried to get back to normal life. You did laundry and cooked dinner and talked to your friends.

Everything felt like you were putting on an act. Even eating your cereal in the morning took more effort than you thought it should have.

You found your thoughts drifting to Papyrus every moment your mind had a chance. You wondered how he was feeling, if he was okay, and if he'd talked to Sans. If you were being honest with yourself, you were a little worried that Sans would do something for what you'd done to Papyrus, but he never showed.

If anyone had told you a week ago that a broken heart would distract you from dancing, you would have laughed in their face. You'd had broken hearts before, but all they did was make it easier for you to dance. You could pour all of your emotional stress into your body and make it move like never before.

But now…as you tried to practice and prepare for the competition, you found your body was unwilling to move the way you wanted it to. All you could think about was that damn tango. Each time you went to step, you felt broken and out of practice.

The first several times you tried, you ended up giving up in a fit of rage. How dare your own body rebel on you? You found your eyes settling on your razor a few too many times for comfort. You eventually hid it in the cupboard, thinking you'd rather be hairy than pick up that habit again.

The week of the competition came, and you still hadn't been able to dance a single step. You called up the board and let them know you were dropping out. You didn't dare get up on that stage if you couldn't even plant a few steps in the right place. You decided you'd be a part of the audience instead. Maybe you'd get to see Papyrus dance. You really hoped he hadn't been as affected by everything as you had been.

Your friends and family were disappointed in you for dropping out of the contest. You tried to explain your reasons to them, but they didn't understand. You knew they couldn't; they didn't feel the things you felt.

Your fingers itched to text Papyrus or call him to find out how he was doing. The one time you gave in, he didn't answer. He never tried to call you back either, despite the message you'd left asking him to do just that.

On the day of the competition, you dressed nicely and arrived at the auditorium a half an hour early. You didn't want to admit to yourself that you hoped you'd get to see him.

You spotted Undyne and Alphys coming in a few minutes after you. You weren't sure how friendly you should be toward them; what if Papyrus had told him that you'd hurt him?

Undyne smiled and waved at you. "Heya, punk!" she all but screamed. "Long time, no see. You're dancing today, right?"

You blushed and shook your head. "No, I dropped out."

She gave you a curiously upset frown. "Why would you do that? You're amazing!"

Well, you used to be. "Thanks, but I'm just not feeling very good. I'd probably trip and embarrass myself." Understatement.

"Oh. Well, you can sit with us if you want."

Alphys nodded, showing you she was okay with that idea.

You decided to go for it. Maybe it would increase your chances of seeing Papyrus.

As you made your way to your seats, you noticed Sans sitting a few rows back from the front. Undyne screeched a greeting out to him, and he just raised his arm. You swallowed hard as Undyne pushed you in front of them. You ended up sitting next to Sans.

"Hey," you said softly.

Sans gave you a sideways glance. "'Sup."

You licked your lips and swallowed. "Um, not much. How are you?" You really wanted to know about Papyrus.

"Great. My brother's been a complete mess for three weeks, but yeah, I'm fine." He shifted in his seat and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

You felt like you'd just been punched in the gut. You really didn't have anything to say to that. Before you could decide if you wanted to speak at all, Undyne reached across you and tapped his shoulder.

He was a completely different person talking to her. You watched with fascination as he smiled and laughed, making jokes—some really inappropriate—and seeming to enjoy himself.

You felt bad for yourself again. He seemed like he would have been a good friend.

Soon enough, the show began to start. The first few dances were humans. They did good, you thought, probably pouring their hearts into their routines. Toriel and Asgore were the fifth performance, and they killed. They got a standing ovation for their performance. More humans and mediocre applause followed.

Then it was Papyrus' turn. You sat forward in your seat, so eager to just see him. He walked out on stage, and you felt like you could breathe for the first time in almost a month. He was dressed in a white shirt with a rose in the left breast pocket, brown pants, and shined shoes. He stopped in the middle, posed, and waited for the music to start.

You watched, completely mesmerized by his movements. You had to admit, you were a little jealous that he could still dance while you were somehow left with two uncoordinated left feet. That didn't matter, though, because watching his body move to the music did wonders to your soul.

He looked out at the audience, and suddenly your eyes met. You could swear he faltered a step, but he gained it back easily. He looked away instantly, but the impact was still left on your heart.

You felt it then, the utter loneliness of his dance. You saw in his movements how much he craved the touch of another person. It brought tears to your eyes and made you remember how amazingly you and he had fit together when you'd danced with him.

By the end of his dance, you were openly weeping. You realized then that two hands were on your back. Undyne patted gently while Sans just let his hand linger for a moment longer. You sniffled indelicately and managed a rough 'thank you' when Sans handed you a tissue.

You didn't pay attention to a single dance after that. You couldn't. All you could think about was how Papyrus must be feeling. Monsters couldn't lie when they danced. He was hurting, and it was because of you. You continued to cry throughout the rest of the competition. Sans ended up handing you three more tissues. You didn't bother to ask him where they were coming from; you were just grateful to have them.

You stood up for the final ovation simply because everyone else did.

A part of you wanted to just go home and wallow in your own misery after the crowd began to disperse. However, when Sans asked if you wanted to go backstage and say hi to his brother, you forgot about that idea. You needed to see Papyrus again.

You were surprised when Sans grabbed your arm and suddenly you were in a different room. It was just the two of you.

"Okay, listen," he said, as if it was completely normal to just suddenly be somewhere else. "I know you have feelings for my brother. He's struggling. He still has feeling for you, too."

You hiccupped a little, not sure if you dared to believe him. "He does?"

Sans nodded. "Yeah, but you gotta understand something. He's been hurt, okay? Like, real bad. I know if you asked him to give it another shot, he would. But, he'd constantly be wondering if what happened before is gonna happen again. If you get together with my brother, you be good to him. And remember that if you ever hurt him, I will make you wish you'd never been born."

His eyes were dark again, letting you know that he meant that threat with all his soul.

You swallowed. "I would never hurt him."

He narrowed his eye sockets at you. "You swear?"

"I swear. Why would I ever want to hurt him? I just want him to be happy."

He stared silently for a moment before he nodded. "Okay." He grabbed your arm again and suddenly you were backstage.

"Okay, what the crap just happened?"

Sans chuckled. "I can teleport," he said simply. He walked away, leaving you to ponder that.

You didn't ponder for long. You saw Papyrus standing with Toriel and Asgore as they talked with Undyne and Alphys. He looked happy. A part of you wanted to walk away and keep that image in your head forever, but you couldn't. You watched him for a minute and were rewarded when you heard his laughter ring out across the area.

He looked down when Sans tapped his arm. Whatever Sans said to him made him look up, and suddenly you found yourself locking eyes with him.

His smile faded, and you felt yourself start to drown. He wasn't happy to see you. The thought crushed your soul easier than a hammer might crush a butterfly. You really wished you could leave now, but he was walking toward you.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "And why did you drop out?"

You weren't sure how to answer the first question. Or the second, really, but at least you could make up a decently convincing lie for that one.

"I haven't been feeling very good lately," you mumbled. "The last few days, I mean. I didn't feel like I could dance." You shrugged.

"You're lying to me."

You swallowed and looked up to meet his eyes. His looked sad.

"Why do you insist on lying to me?"

"I…" You couldn't think of anything to say for a moment. With a deep breath, you caved. "I haven't been able to dance since that night," you confessed. "I've tried, but I just stumble over my own feet like a toddler."

"Why? Are you okay?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm not okay." Your arms wrapped around your middle and you tried so hard to keep any more tears from falling. "I feel like I lost a part of myself, Papyrus. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I never intended to listen in on a private conversation. I want another chance to prove I can be better."

He stared at you like you had just confessed to loving him all over again. In a way, you supposed you had.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close. You closed your eyes and gripped the back of his shirt in your fists. As you breathed in, you relished the smell of his cologne. You nuzzled your face against his chest.

He didn't pull away for a few long moments, but neither did you. You didn't want to let go when he loosened his arms and began to pull back, but you told yourself you'd get more hugs.

"Would you like to come to dinner with us tonight?" he asked.

You frowned. "I wish I could, but I'm having dinner with my parents. Can we do tomorrow night?"

His smile made you feel a little better. "Tomorrow night it is. Come by the house around seven."

"It's a date! Or…well…" You blushed; you hadn't meant to say that.

His soft laughter made you smile. "It's a date."

Papyrus had made lasagna. He clearly had a penchant for Italian dishes. He was a good cook, so it was okay.

Dinner that night was just you and the skeleton brothers. Sans was quiet as he ate, but you could swear he was watching you. Almost as soon as he was done, he was gone.

"Sans has been acting strangely today," Papyrus said with a little frown. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He told me twice that he was going to keep an eye on me, as if I'm a child who can't take care of himself." He sighed. "Anyway. How are you doing, Chameleon?"

He smiled at you from across the table. You smiled back.

"I'm doing a little better, I think." Knowing that he was going to give you a second chance made you feel like you were a whole person, at least. "How are you? Are you okay?"

His smile wavered. "I'm…going to be okay. And I'm sorry that I never returned your calls or texts. I was…I don't know what I was. Confused, I think."

You nodded. "It's okay; at least we're here now, right?"

"Right."

You helped him clean up, and then the two of you went to sit on the couch. He allowed you to snuggle into his side, and you let yourself be comforted by his arm around you.

"I feel like I need to apologize," he said softly.

You looked up at him. "Why?"

He pressed his teeth to your forehead. "Because I panicked the last time we were on this couch together. I was so scared about what the future might look like for us that I didn't even consider a happy ending."

You reached up and gently touched his face. "I'm the one that scared you," you said with a frown. "I shouldn't have listened in."

He shook his head. "That has nothing to do with it." His fingers began to move hesitantly across your arm. "I told you that relationships like these turn physical eventually."

You nodded. "You did say that, but—"

"Please…I need to say this."

Again, you nodded and shut your mouth, waiting for him to speak. He looked down for a minute before coughing a little. It almost sounded like he was clearing his throat despite not having a throat.

"A few…um…several years ago, I had this partner. He, um…" He paused, glancing at you sideways as he shifted uncomfortably. You wished you could give him comfort and tell him it was okay, whatever he needed to say. "I was young and stupid. I thought I was the luckiest monster alive to be with him. He was very outwardly sexual. Everything about him screamed sexuality, and I thought I liked that about him. I thought that because I resonated with Latin dances, I was also supposed to be a sexual monster. I didn't understand…until we got too close one night and I realized that I didn't want…he, um…he didn't let me stop."

You stared at him in shock. How could someone take advantage of him like that?

"Oh, Papyrus." Your voice was barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

Orange tears fell from his eyes as he avoided meeting your eyes. "I can't…"

He hesitated, but you didn't let him finish. You reached out and gently wiped a tear away.

"Papyrus, I'm not like that."

He looked at you then. "I didn't mean to insinuate that you are."

"I know, but I couldn't ever hurt you like that. I love you. As long as we can dance together—and I mean actual dancing like swing and tango and whatnot—then I'm happy with us. Maybe someday we'll want to explore other ways of being physical, but I won't ever push for that. Hell, I won't even ask for it. I'll let you set that pace."

He sniffled and nodded. "What if you get tired of waiting?"

You smiled. "That's what toys are for."

His face flushed orange. "The one partner I had after him…she got impatient. She said if I wasn't willing to recognize that she wasn't my abuser then I didn't deserve to be with her."

You softly rubbed your thumb across his cheekbone. "She was wrong. She's the one that doesn't deserve you. You were raped, Papyrus; only you can say what's okay and what isn't when it comes to a physical relationship." You leaned in and gently placed a kiss on his opposite cheekbone. "I will never question you or push you. But, you have to promise that you will tell me immediately if I do something that makes you uncomfortable."

He nodded and kissed your lips. "You are truly amazing."

"Can I tell you something?" Since you were on the topic of past abuse and emotional scars, you figured it couldn't hurt to get your own demons out.

"Of course."

"I used to cut myself when I got sad. It helped me to deal with the pain. I have a lot of physical scars from that, but they're in places you won't see when I'm wearing clothes." You sucked in a breath and met his eyes. His were concerned but comforting. "I almost cut again this last month. I don't want you to feel bad, okay? I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I just want you to know, because sometimes I might make a comment about it, or I might go a while without shaving. That's because I still struggle with it. My legs are super fuzzy right now because I don't dare hold my razor."

"You didn't cut yourself?" he asked, almost sounding amazed.

You shook your head. "No. I hid my razor so I wouldn't be so tempted."

He pulled you in to a tight hug and kissed your head. "I'm so proud of you."

Tears welled in your eyes. Nobody had ever said that you. Everyone was disappointed when you cut, but nobody was proud when you didn't. You closed your eyes tightly and squeezed your arms around him.

"I love you so much," you whispered.

"I love you, too. I will always be here to encourage you." He squeezed sharply one more time before pulling back and meeting your eyes. "Please never feel like you have to hide from me. Together we'll make it through."