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[fulllifeconsequences]

Speak.

[Wow okay cool voicemail there Chara. Voice/text/video away to your heart's content.]

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[fulllifeconsequences]

[They've sort of... been not spending a lot of time in their room lately. They don't... they don't know what to say to Frisk. They can hardly even process this for themselves. It doesn't feel real. It feels impossible that things would be this unbelievably okay for them. Things have no right being okay. They keep looking for a catch, keep expecting to wake up from this dream, keep holding their breath for the point when Toriel thinks their guard is down and tries to really make them pay for everything they've done wrong.

But they creep back into their room, careful not to wake up Frisk, and there's... there's a slice of pie on the floor.

Oh.

They kneel down by it. Try to read the note by the light of their phone, still hoping they don't wake Frisk up. It's... it's like they thought. There's the wrong name on it. Chara, not Frisk. This is... this is for them.

They shouldn't. They know they shouldn't. They definitely haven't earned it. But... right there, kneeling on the floor, they pick up the plate. It smells wonderful.

It feels like they're... like they're stealing? Like they can't be caught, like they need to sneak. But... haha, you tell a joke about a kid who ate pie with their bare hands. Just a couple bites. Just enough to remember what it's like.

...It tastes like home. Like love, like comfort, like the coziness of warm fire magic and a soft reading chair and a pair of big fuzzy arms that actually feel safe, even if they belong to an adult. It tastes, and that's how they know it's real, because they can't trick themselves into tasting if they're still soulless and just... just imagining all of this. It tastes like something Chara never thought they would ever again get to experience.

It's the best thing they've ever tasted.]