[They don't - they don't understand why this hurts so much. Why he can affect them this much. They've got more LOVE than anyone here. They don't have a whole SOUL, just a few pieces of one. They're mean, aloof, ruthless, a hardened killer. They're still a demon deep down, people have just started pretending they don't notice. Mettaton is just - he's self-centered and shallow, right? He's egotistical and Chara's heartless, so this shouldn't be happening at all.
But he holds their grasping hands, and it's slow and gentle and nothing at all like pinning them down, and they're surprised that the metal is much warmer than they thought it would be, and every part of them aches over how much they needed to hear something so considerate and genuine and comforting. How utterly new and foreign it is to be such a mess, so undignified, so messy, and yet be told they're fine the way they are. Not that they aren't the greatest, not that they could be better if they tried. That - that this is enough.]
I don't - wanna cry. I'm not gonna cry.
[They interrupt themself with a hiccup, too loud and too messy and too wet-sounding. They're getting sniffly and their eyes are hot with a dampness they can't blink away. A few droplets too many. They're spilling over. Overflowing all over the place.]
I'm not crying. I wasn't gonna cry at all.
I wanted you to think I was cool.
[They tell themselves that's a laugh, not a shuddering, jerky sob, the kind that makes their shoulders twitch and their whole body feels it from top to bottom. Still making jokes, see? Still smiling! Laughing it off!]
this cr never stops ambushing my feelings
But he holds their grasping hands, and it's slow and gentle and nothing at all like pinning them down, and they're surprised that the metal is much warmer than they thought it would be, and every part of them aches over how much they needed to hear something so considerate and genuine and comforting. How utterly new and foreign it is to be such a mess, so undignified, so messy, and yet be told they're fine the way they are. Not that they aren't the greatest, not that they could be better if they tried. That - that this is enough.]
I don't - wanna cry. I'm not gonna cry.
[They interrupt themself with a hiccup, too loud and too messy and too wet-sounding. They're getting sniffly and their eyes are hot with a dampness they can't blink away. A few droplets too many. They're spilling over. Overflowing all over the place.]
I'm not crying. I wasn't gonna cry at all.
I wanted you to think I was cool.
[They tell themselves that's a laugh, not a shuddering, jerky sob, the kind that makes their shoulders twitch and their whole body feels it from top to bottom. Still making jokes, see? Still smiling! Laughing it off!]