Even weeks after the incident, Error was still furious. When you came home, you had no idea that he'd left; he made sure to return before you saw. Still yet, you knew something was off when you noticed the burning anger that was visible in his eyelights, though it wasn't directed towards you.

The glitched skeleton suspected you knew that something was wrong. As soon as you took one look at him, you asked if he was feeling alright. He, of course, said he was fine, but later that night you discovered that there was still some chocolate in the fridge.

And that meant something was seriously wrong.

The next day, Error asked why you go to work. This question took you by surprise, and you didn't quite understand why he asked it, but gave him an answer nonetheless.

Because you needed to pay for things.

He then asked what your line of business was, and why you're a part of it. All these questions about work rubbed you in the wrong direction, and you began to answer them a lot more hesitantly. Error noticed this and put the unanswered questions to rest.

But now, he was left with no answers to very important questions of his. Questions that deserved to be answered. Questions that needed to be answered.

But mostly, he just wanted to know why on Earth you work for that lady.

Surely there were better jobs, were there not? Much better paying, easier, more interesting, jobs.

Ones that don't entail physical abuse.

The original plan was to call the authorities once he saw the poor girl being beat up, but once he saw that it was you, oh, that wasn't gonna happen.

If anything, the neighbors would need to call the cops on him, for what he planned to do.

The male didn't like fights, despite the masses making him seem that way. It was unnecessary and painful. So he tended to try to avoid most of them by avoiding people in general.

But this was different.

That woman had hurt y/n. The only one he might actually care about in this whole wretched world. He still wasn't certain how he felt about the whole 'caring about the wellbeing of another person' sort of thing, but he knew for a fact that he didn't like this at all.

Not one bit.

At the moment, the male skeleton was lying across the couch, his head on one armrest, and his legs propped up on the other. He stared up at the white ceiling above him, counting the seconds. He was beginning to close his eyesockets, despite the worried human standing beside him.

You.

You fidgeted, shifting your weight from foot to foot, your arms crossed. You had been getting increasingly more worried about the male, who hadn't seemed like himself, lately.

You knew how he was supposed to act. Distant, slightly angry at the world, somewhat determined, and kind of active. But this was too much. He was too distant. Too angry at the world. Much more than he should've been.

"Error, what's wrong? You haven't been acting the way you used to, and it's been a couple of weeks! I know you keep saying that you're just tired, but I don't really think that's it. What's wrong?" You asked, playing with your fingers.

Error, having been asked the same question over and over, sighed. He was, in all honesty, flattered by your concern, but couldn't really tell you what was going on. You'd surely stop him from beating the living daylights out of the woman, there was no doubt about it. But still, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Covering his face with his hand, the male decided how much he was going to tell you. You were constantly asking him what was wrong, and despite his enjoyment of your concern, he felt bad. So, instead of making up an entire lie, he decided to tell a partial truth.

"AlrIGht, fiNe, i'Ll tElL yoU. NoThInG iS wrOnG, I sWeAr, i'M fIne. I jUsT wAnt tO fOcUs oN reCOvEry rIGhT nOw, sO I wAnt tO LiMiT mY mOVeMenT. OKaY?" The skeleton spoke, watching your facial expression.

This wasn't completely false, as this was one of his objectives, but it also wasn't entirely true either. If there were a middle ground between a truth and a lie, this would've been it.

At first, you seemed relieved, but then your face contorted into one of confusion.

"Oh, that makes sense. But you could've just told me that from the beginning, I would've stopped bothering you. Why didn't you say so?" You questioned.

Oh dear.

The male hadn't thought about that. Great, now what was he gonna say? He still didn't want to lie to you, the only person who actually seemed to care about his wellbeing. No, he couldn't bring himself to doing that, not by a long shot. So what was he going to say?

Instinctively, he huffed, grabbing one of the couch cushions and tossing it at you, rolling over, his back facing you.

"wHy dOeS mAttEr? MaYbe i jUsT dIdN't wAnT tO tELl you." He mumbled, his voice muffled as a result of his face being engulfed by a pillow.

Avoidance is always the way to go.

You shrugged, smiling faintly.

"Well, that's alright, but you could've just said so. Anyways, I'm ordering some stuff online at the moment, do you need anything?" You offered politely, holding up your phone.

The male skeleton was about to shake his head, when an idea popped into his skull, making him snap his fingers and adjust his position to look at you.

"YEaH, acTuaLly. THeRe's a fEw thiNgs..."

*          *          *

You sat in your bedroom, lying on your bed, somewhat confused.

At the moment, you were staring at your phone screen, looking at the list of items that would be coming in today. All there was were a few new outfits for you and the destroyer, a new espresso machine, an iphone 7, and another supply of bandages.

You looked down at yourself, still littered in cuts and bruises from your boss smashing a vase against you. She was obviously not the kindest towards you, seeing as she physically abused you, though you kept your mouth shut. Even if you had told the authorities of what had happened, there was no way they'd believe you.

Especially considering the fact that she owns the police.

Being the wife of the town mayor certainly had it's perks, being the able to get away with murder. Quite literally, too. Your boss could literally kill almost everyone in the town, and get off scot free. And with her short temper and tendency to lash out at others, that wasn't a reassuring thought to fall asleep to.

You rubbed your arms, which were pained from being hit with a baton earlier today, sighing.

"I'll get out of this mess one day . . .
I just need to be patient. It'll be okay soon. " You muttered to yourself, closing your eyes.

Shaking your head, you noticed that you had let your thoughts wander, a simple bandage order triggering your mind to be distracted from what you were doing at the moment.

Which was wondering why on Earth Error wanted what he did.

The skeleton had requested crutches of you, not giving you a reason as to why. You sat on your bed, confused, scratching your head.

Now, why would he want crutches? He had a wheelchair, one that would move on its own! He didn't even need to push the wheels! It surely was an optimal method of transportation for an injured person, so why would he require crutches?

Being the person you were, you had bought it for him without a second thought. You'd buy the whole world, if it would please him. But knowing why he's choosing to spend your money in such a way couldn't hurt!

You thought about the possible reasons as to why he wouldn't want the wheelchair. Was the chair not comfortable enough? Did it move too slow? Too fast? Did he want it in a different color? Did it provide poor support to his legs? Questions swarmed around your head, swelling and rising within you, though you knew you weren't getting answers anytime soon.

You were far too timid to ask.

You sighed, not quite understanding yourself. Why were you so shy? You were, of course, infatuated with the skeleton, but it shouldn't be to the point where you still struggled to speak to him. Especially after a few months.

You flopped backwards on your bed, hugging your pillow to your chest, looking at the ceiling. Even on the ceiling, a few printed pieces of fanart were present, reminding you of just how different you were.

Everyone has their own intrests, as do you, but by goodness. Why did you have to be the person with a crazy obsession? It was absurd and you knew it, though you couldn't help yourself. It's not like you choose to be this way.

Glancing around the room a bit more,  you made a small noise of displeasure, knowing you would have to get rid of it all. He's bound to wind up in your room one of these days, seeing as he tkaes intrest in exploring the house for a majority of his free time.

Speaking of which . . .

You were aware that he took an interest in string, so why didn't you see it yet? His iconic blue string, that seems to have a life of its own, moving and wrapping around objects and shattering souls without the slightest hand movement from the destroyer himself.

Where was it?

Why wasn't it flowing from his hands and eyesockets, following him wherever he goes? Why wasn't it assembled in a hammock in the corner of his room, serving as his bed as opposed to the one you had given him? Why wasn't it strewn around the entire house, making it a nest of your abode?

And why hadn't it shattered your soul by now?

You closed your eyes yet again, thinking back to the day you found him, trying to remember if you had seen it then. Back to the day you found him, a mess of black, blue, red, yellow, purpl-

Purple.

The magic restraints! That must be why; how could you have forgotten about them? Those cuffs were most likely the reason why you were still alive!

Cuffs.

You grimaced, immediately feeling guilty for leaving them on, knowing what it feels like to be tied up by another, namely your boss. She had tied your wrists, sides, and ankles together for five hours as punishment for not vacuuming her entire mansion in an hour. In those few hours, you were forced to live with limitations, and were tied in such a way that didn't even permit you to sit  down. You had hated it.

And now you were doing the exact same thing to Error.

To be fair, you weren't doing it as punishment, it had simply slipped your mind to remove them when you first noticed. But now, it was different. You couldn't remove them. You just couldn't.

Why?

Because it would put your life in danger. Despite your fondness of the male, and your tendency to overlook all his flaws, this was something you couldn't deny. He had a quick temper and was incredibly powerful, not to mention the fact that you had held him captive in your home for the past few months.

When putting it like that, it's easy to assume that he had only grown to hate you more and more, his hate growing the longer he stayed.

You shook your head, looking up towards the ceiling, the thought haunting you.

"Ugh, great, he probably hates me."

*          *          *

"oH yEaH, sHe dEfiNiTeLY hAteS mE."

Error spoke to himself, sitting on the bed of his room, looking through the window at the night sky. The atmosphere was alight with all shades of blue and purple, along with a hint of black. The male tried his best to concentrate on the gorgeous night outside, though his thoughts wouldn't seem to leave him alone.

He sighed, his warm breath temporary fogging up the window.  He lifted his forefinger, drawing a circle in the fog, along with two vertical lines within the circle. They were side by side, and he added to the interior of the original circle yet again, adding a semicircle. In the end, it represented a sad face, before he slowly wiped it away with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt.

He had truly taken into consideration what you had said before, and felt slightly guilty about the way he acted. All you had done was express your concern for him, yet he pushed you away.

He rested his skull against the windowpane, still staring outwardly, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards in a slight frown.

Why was he like this?

He thought to himself, not knowing the answer to his own question. He didn't get why he acted like this towards you, he was just so . . . mean.

The male understood what he was doing, though he didn't get why. There was something about you that made him this way, he was sure of it. Even when all he wanted was to sit beside you, he always seemed to do the exact opposite of what he wanted.

He would glare when wanting to offer you a smile, he'd walk away when he wanted to be nearer, he'd remain silent when he wants to speak, and would avoid you on the rare occasion that he wanted interaction with another member of society.

But why.

This was something he hadn't experienced with anyone else before, as he could be quite cordial to his other acquaintances. But something about the way you spoke, and smiled, and laughed caused him to react differently, but he couldn't pinpoint why.

Maybe this was just how friends act.

He hadn't really made friends before, never finding the need to. Aside from Nightmare's gang, he didn't care to talk to others much, until he met you. Maybe he just thought of you as a closer friend than they were.

Maybe.

If he could even call you a friend. In all honesty, he didn't really know what it meant to have one until you. And even if this is just the way friends treat each other, let it be known that he felt partial guilt for it.

At a surprisingly late hour, when he presumed you were already asleep, there was a rapping on the wooden door to his room. He perked up, not wanting you to know he was still up, before lying back on the bed, feigning sleep.

The act was quite convincing, seeing how you simply entered upon his lack of response, sighing in what he could only assume was relief. He heard a shuffling, and the clank of metal, before you exited the room and shut the door, muttering a quiet, 'goodnight.'

As soon as he was sure you had left, he sat up, looking at the foot of his bed. A black duffel bag lay there, of which he picked up, skeptically unzipping it.

To his surprise, crutches lay inside, already adjusted to fit his height perfectly.

He took the out, running his fingers along the cool metal, a small smile gracing his face. He set them on the side, near the drawer, just within reach after he wakes up. He slid the bag under the bed, laying down, covering himself in his sheets with a gratitude in his eyelights. He closed his eyesockets, preparing for slumber.

"WeLl, eVeN iF sHE haTEs mE, I sUrE dOn'T hAte hEr. NoT bY a LoNg sHot."

____________________________________________________________________________

Heya, everyone! Idiot-chan here!

Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been trying to improve my, uhm, mental health, lately. It's not easy, and very time consuming, on top of my monstrous amount of schoolwork due tommorow T-T Still, this is no excuse, and I apologize for my actions.  I will get back into a more organized update schedule soon, should school ease up.

And if I forget to update, or if you want more frequent updates, just spam me in the comments. Seriously. Gets me to work a lot faster, haha! Also, a huge thank you to RedemptionExecute for reminding me, I really appreciate it! QwQ

See you soon, my lovely readers<3