[Don't thank them. They don't enjoy convention - thank yous and sorrys that have no weight when one doesn't try and change things, when there's nothing to show for their words. But all the same - they can't keep that break of trembling gratitude that shivers in their throat, the way their heart compresses and feels like, impossibly, it's grown slightly lighter.]

Thank you for talking to me.

[Then they can thank them for something objective. For clearing the air, somewhat. Gaining back a little of what was lost.

The question is - it's more, infinitely more, than they could have hoped for, but all of this was. All of this, every piece of it, was never an outcome they'd come to expect, after the way their conversations with Chara have gone. It's a shift. It's a change. It's an adjustment for them both. Chara's just been...living with Toriel all this time, alone, haven't they? Not alone, but - deliberately keeping themself isolated from everyone else. It's easy to imagine. They've done it before.

They'll get through it, the both of them. They'll have to.]

I would... [Don't choke on the words. Swallow, and continue.] I would like that. Very much. If you...if you would like to.

I think it still looks the way it did.

[Maybe it never expected them to leave. Frisk certainly didn't. Even when they were empty, all the walls of their solidity scraped clean, there were two beds, and one side of the room upon which Frisk did not encroach.]