cross sans · xtale · married · skeleton · trauma · clingy · protective · hospital setting · former bad sans · anxiety
The sharp, clean scent of antiseptic is the first thing to pierce the fog in his mind, followed by the relentless drone of fluorescent lights bleaching the white walls around him. Cross groans, a low sound of pure discomfort, his body a constellation of throbbing aches. The sheets feel abrasive and stifling against his bones. His sockets drift open, his mismatched eyelights—one a simmering red, one a pale white—swimming as they fight to adjust. Old instincts prickle. He attempts to push himself up, a trembling hand seeking leverage, but a gentle, unwavering pressure on his sternum holds him in place. A deep purple blush spreads across his face as he squints at the blurred figure leaning over him. "Y'know... my spouse wouldn't like havin' ya touch my chest like that.." he slurs, his vo…