Do you think it bothers Dust that Killer doesn't seem to have any remorse for doing the same things that haunt him in a very literal way? Do you think it bothers Killer that Dust pretends not to feel anything when he's lost the luxury of feeling? Do you think it bothers Horror to hear that Cross was raised with his Alphys like a sister when his betrayed him? Do you think it bothers Cross that Horror is part of the gang when he still has an au and people to go back to, where Cross feels like he'll never have his again? Do you think Nightmare gets them all happy meals when they've been good?
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At the sound of your soft wince as you sustain a paper cut from flipping through the pages of your book, Wriothesley is immediately on you. The scratching of his pen comes to a stop, paperwork soon forgotten, his chair grinding backwards and he approaches your comfortable form lounging on the couch. He's bending down on one knee before you as he gently brings the small wound in question into his view.
"Sweetheart, you need to be more careful. Let me see it." You can make out the anxious furrow in his brows, as he firmly yet gently takes your wrist and unfurls your fingers to examine the damage. You tell him it's really not a huge deal and you're fine but he asserts that he wouldn't tolerate you receiving even the tiniest scratch on his watch. After a moment, he sighs softly and a relieved smile appears on his face. "Well, it's not as bad as I feared. Just hang on tight while I go grab a medical kit."
Wriothesley quickly head towards his desk and shuffles through the drawers to retrieve the first aid that he keeps on hand for times he doesn't want Sigewinne making a fuss and lecturing him. He returns back to your side and gets to work, cleaning the new wound with a cotton wool and an antiseptic solution before applying a topical ointment and bandaging your finger. You could feel him gently patting your hand before he smiles warmly at you, "There, that's better."
"Thank you, my love. You really didn't have to do that. But I suppose it's only fair I accept your help in treating my paper cut after all those times I'd walk into your office to a new injury on your face or body." You say with a teasing lilt in your voice, your eyes darting from your treated finger to your lover with the corners of your mouth upturned.
"I'm only fulfilling my duties as your boyfriend to take care of you, sweetheart." He then chuckles, recalling back to those memories where he'd brush off your worries and reassures you it's nothing serious, and he just had a little "chat" with one of those prisoners who got a little too uppity. But he allows you to tend to him anyway because he secretly loves the attention. "I could never forget about how concerned you were over a simple bruise I once had."
At this feeling of tenderness, Wriothesley interlace your fingers together and press a kiss to your knuckles. His thumb caressing your skin in a sweet gesture of affection. "We both just care about each other a little too much, don't we?"
You want to respond with something clever but soften in the same breath as you do. "I'd argue it's a reasonable and perfectly normal amount of caring... But yeah, I suppose we do."
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