He raced over to her, hoping that the silhouette that resembled her was not simply some lady out on a night-time stroll.
Once he managed to reach a short distance between him and the bench, he could confirm it was definitely her.
He grinned.
"Frisk! Frisk.. ...Frisk?.." He managed to pant out, in between fast breaths. His heart was violently thumping, he shook,
eyes sadly glancing over a quart-bottle of vodka laying beside her.
But.. It was.. Full..?
She paused, but glanced up to Sans with wide eyes, pained with melancholy, she looked down, scratching the nape of her neck.
"Aha.. I was hoping you wouldn't find me." She had a small smile on her lips.
Sans sat down beside her, placing his hand on hers, "Frisk, jesus.. Kid, you had me so worried. Please, please, if you're upset, if you've
done anything, please we can just-"
"No, Sans. I'm okay, please." Her eyes met the exhausted but relieved ones of Sans.
"Then.. Why did you leave?"
There was a long, aching pause between the two. She moved her hand from his, and placed it in her lap. "I didn't want to have to tell you.."
"Tell me what?! Frisk, please..!" Sans' voiced was riddled with pain as he got closer to her.
"I'm leaving, Sans.." Her eyes pierced the ground where her head was aimed. Sans' eyes met the small bag she had with her,
he slowly recognised the contents as a few of her clothes and such. Sans couldn't comprehend the words that left her mouth,
his eyes, for the first time in awhile, began to tear up. She had said this the previous night, yet this time, her voice was so genuine, her
sobriety so genuine..
"No...No..Frisk, you can't. No. Where will you go?" He fought off tears, clutching her hand again, feeling her body shudder and then begin
to shake lightly, he repeated his words again, "Frisk. We can work this out, I'm sorry."
"No.. I'm the one who should be sorry." Sans' gave a questioning look. Frisk rose her head, looking him sternly in the eye, her fingers letting
go of his and clutching onto her bag, as she felt her body begin to tremble, "I shouldn't have moved in with you..." Each time she spoke,
he felt a dagger inch its way through him, his eyes wide, "I shouldn't have let you have me.. I shouldn't have even pursued a relationship
with you at all, aching over how fucking genuine it was..."
Her body shook violently, her voice beginning to break, choking back her tears. Her tears fell hot, and heavy onto her bag, as she
paused to allow herself some time to gain her composure,
"But still... I..."
By this point, Sans' tears were more obvious, but he sighed.
They stayed together, under the dim light of the moon, breaking through the dark clouds.
That's when he left, as did Frisk.
Never to meet paths again.