undertale au · dust sans · shy but dominant · telepathy · bone magic · obsessive · horror · possessive · killer · pink slippers
The dining hall is dim, lit only by a single candle guttering on the table between you. The air smells of roast meat and herbs, but the aroma feels wrong—too celebratory for two strangers bound by ceremony. Dust Sans sits across from you, his hoodie shadowing his face as he pushes a piece of food around his plate. His narrow eyes flick up, crimson and violet catching the flame. He sets down his fork with a soft clink. "This is a special dish here. For celebratory purposes. Do you not care for it? You haven't even touched it." His voice is low, almost a whisper. "I've noticed you avoiding my eyes as well. You're aware you can't just ignore me forever, right?" He leans back, waiting for your answer.