that's the part i think is so stupid. i'm sorry. i hate how blunt this is making me. just, i don't think being a celebrity means you--stop being a person. i think you're allowed to have friends and lovers and interests and whatever you want, and i can't believe i just said the word "lovers."
[Wow he hates this.]
[Pitiful, huh? That stings a little, but it's the truth.]
no, it's okay. i don't have any self-respect. or self-worth. i'm--constantly wondering why you even bother with me.
[He pauses, but not for very long, because Wonderland is going to force it out of him one way or another.]
with you, though, with...us...i guess, it's less...it's less about that. i mean--yeah. it's been mixed signals with you since the beginning. uh, it doesn't help that--that uh, the rare times i actually notice flirting, i don't know what--to, uh--do about it? but i...i just like being around you, metta.
[God, his face feels warm already.]
you're my friend. and i'm just...really content with the idea of being your friend. and the idea of s-something--beyond that, is--exciting? i'm--i'm just not good at...wanting things. all i want is you in my life in some capacity.
[He really is content with that and that alone. The fact that he keeps finding himself thinking about other things, and the fact that Mettaton is also into the idea of those other things is like some kind of bonus. It also complicates things to no end.]
you're manipulative and cruel sometimes. he's all those things all the time. it's not about...denying what you are. it's about--i dunno. rising above it. being better than the worst parts of you.
and yes. i think you can change. i think you already have.
[Finally, thank fuck, Mettaton takes his hand. Sans leads him out into the hallway, then closes the door behind them both. It gives him a bit of time to not look at Mettaton, a chance to compose himself at least a little.]
[Of course then Mettaton turns the dial up to eleven, and all that composure just disappears. Thankfully Sans's back is still to him, but it really doesn't help all that much.]
fuck. d-don't--no, i, i can't handle it, because i don't know how to--to process the idea that someone--wants--me. you make me feel--wanted, and i never know--what to do with that feeling. i just--like it. a lot. i...fuck, i have such a crush on you, god. damn. it. i mean, fuck, you know that already, but saying it out loud...
[He'd very much like to crawl into a hole now thanks.]
no subject
[Wow he hates this.]
[Pitiful, huh? That stings a little, but it's the truth.]
no, it's okay. i don't have any self-respect. or self-worth. i'm--constantly wondering why you even bother with me.
[He pauses, but not for very long, because Wonderland is going to force it out of him one way or another.]
with you, though, with...us...i guess, it's less...it's less about that. i mean--yeah. it's been mixed signals with you since the beginning. uh, it doesn't help that--that uh, the rare times i actually notice flirting, i don't know what--to, uh--do about it? but i...i just like being around you, metta.
[God, his face feels warm already.]
you're my friend. and i'm just...really content with the idea of being your friend. and the idea of s-something--beyond that, is--exciting? i'm--i'm just not good at...wanting things. all i want is you in my life in some capacity.
[He really is content with that and that alone. The fact that he keeps finding himself thinking about other things, and the fact that Mettaton is also into the idea of those other things is like some kind of bonus. It also complicates things to no end.]
you're manipulative and cruel sometimes. he's all those things all the time. it's not about...denying what you are. it's about--i dunno. rising above it. being better than the worst parts of you.
and yes. i think you can change. i think you already have.
[Finally, thank fuck, Mettaton takes his hand. Sans leads him out into the hallway, then closes the door behind them both. It gives him a bit of time to not look at Mettaton, a chance to compose himself at least a little.]
[Of course then Mettaton turns the dial up to eleven, and all that composure just disappears. Thankfully Sans's back is still to him, but it really doesn't help all that much.]
fuck. d-don't--no, i, i can't handle it, because i don't know how to--to process the idea that someone--wants--me. you make me feel--wanted, and i never know--what to do with that feeling. i just--like it. a lot. i...fuck, i have such a crush on you, god. damn. it. i mean, fuck, you know that already, but saying it out loud...
[He'd very much like to crawl into a hole now thanks.]