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Asriel sits with his head on my shoulder, arms squeezing mine. I lay motionless.
I don’t know if monsters have blood.
But I can feel his pulse, thrumming violently against me where his temple rests on my shoulder.
It would be so easy to find out. He wouldn’t fight back, not against me. I could take out my knife and slice open his chest, see what it is I feel beating when he hugs me. Slit his throat so he couldn’t cry out, and no one would know.
But then maybe I should let him scream. Because then I would know just how much I was hurting him, like I knew I always would. I would never be able to forget the sound. Ever.
I would feel guilty for the rest of my life, knowing that I murdered the one person who cared about me. The one person who was stupid enough to find me and believe that I could be anything but a killer.
No. No, I don’t want to do that. Do I? What’s wrong with me? What is wrong with me? My fingers twitch as I fight to stay still. My heart screams in my chest.
“Chara?” I flinch. I stare at him. I gaze into his big, brown, innocent, loving, stupid eyes. He stares back. “Are you okay? You’re shaking…” He asks, voice full of concern.
I swallow. I can’t stop thinking about shoving him over, ripping off his horns, punching and kicking and hitting him and hearing his bones crack as he screams and cries and-
I force myself to look away. I shake my head and clench my fists to ensure they don’t touch him. I try not to focus on the thoughts. They’re constant in the back of my mind, and they never stop. I don’t understand them. I hate them.
But I’m the one thinking them. I’m the one that wants them.
So I hate myself.
And I don’t understand why he doesn’t hate me.
The tears almost start, but I close my eyes before they can. I will not cry. I am not a baby.
I hear shuffling. He pries open my fingers and shoves something in my hand. I gasp, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s holding a chocolate bar. I look down. I’m also holding one. I laugh. He beams.
“I knew that would make you feel better!” He smiles and plops back down next to me, tearing the wrapper off with his claws. I pick at the plastic with my dull and useless human fingernails.
I think about how it’s good that my nails aren’t sharp enough to hurt anyone.
I sigh and allow my head to fall onto his shoulder. He giggles and headbutts me. I smile. It may be selfish of me, but I let myself believe with him sometimes. I know this won’t last, and I’m stupid for allowing myself to get used to it. But they’re going to hate me anyway. It doesn’t matter what I do.
So I let myself be happy, just a little.
Asriel truly is wonderful, as much as I want to hurt him. He’s so kind to me, in a way that no one has been before. And he’s incredibly easy to trust. As wonderful as Toriel and Asgore are, they’re adults. I know better than to rely on them for anything.
But then, maybe I should know better than to trust Asriel. No. No, he’s different. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He’s so sweet and lovable and trusting of everyone. He always makes an effort to include me, to make me more comfortable, to make me feel welcome in this strange place.
He took me to his home, knowing full well that I was of the race that locked him and all monsters away, that wanted to slaughter them all. He truly believed that I was above them, when I was just as disgusting and bloodthirsty as all the rest.
And I let him, even when I knew the decision would surely lead to his death. Or mine. Or both.
But somehow, at least for now, we’re both still alive.
I’ve kept my urges in check for this long.
He starts excitedly rambling to me about going to Waterfall and swimming while the tides are high and wishing on the ceiling stars. I listen and try to ignore how I want to break off each of his fingers one by one.
He makes me want to stay alive, just so I can talk to him and sit in his presence for a little while longer and hope that whatever’s wrong with me fixes itself, when I know it never will.
Maybe that’s why I want to hurt him.
I know he’s too good for me.