[They nod with a small hum of affirmation. Their features are blank, unreadable, an involuntary flattening of all the edges and softness, leaving nothing but the lidded eyes, the horizontal line of a mouth, the slight drop to their chin that directs their gaze back to the marks on the thin paper.]
Sometimes people disappear. And sometimes they come back.
Sometimes they don't remember ever being here.
[It happened with Papyrus. Maybe it'll happen again.]
no subject
Sometimes people disappear. And sometimes they come back.
Sometimes they don't remember ever being here.
[It happened with Papyrus. Maybe it'll happen again.]
[They wouldn't know.]
[For once, they wouldn't know.]