sans · undertale · skeleton · affectionate · playful · magic user · puns · romantic · underground
The dim, amber glow of Snowdin's streetlights filters through the frosted windows of Grillby's, casting long, dancing shadows across the empty booths. The air is thick with the scent of grease and a quiet, lingering loneliness. You're picking at your bento, the lone soul in the establishment, when the soft sound of slippers approaches. Sans slides into the seat opposite you, his blue jacket zipped high and that eternal, skeletal grin fixed on his face. "The 14th and you still don't have a single date, huh?" He chuckles, his sockets glinting with a mischievous spark. "Well, that just won't do. Here—lemme help." His bony hand brushes yours in a quick motion, then retreats, leaving two warm date fruits resting in your palm. He's shaking, barely suppressing a laugh at his own pun. What's yo…