Sans runs his hand down his skull, fingers catching in his eye sockets on the way down. The laughter is dying down, leaving him feeling warm and spent and tired. He hunkers down deeper into the comfort of his hoodie, eye sockets drooping on cue.
"Here, hold onto my arm." He nods lazily for her to take hold, stifling a yawn in the process.
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Sans runs his hand down his skull, fingers catching in his eye sockets on the way down. The laughter is dying down, leaving him feeling warm and spent and tired. He hunkers down deeper into the comfort of his hoodie, eye sockets drooping on cue.
"Here, hold onto my arm." He nods lazily for her to take hold, stifling a yawn in the process.