[Let him is all she has to say. The rest filters in slower, like sound through cotton.
Let him. There it is again, as if underlined in red ink. Two little words that flew in the face of everything that came after. How old could she have been then? She was practically a baby now, a little younger than Papyrus, and somehow even thinking about his brother in tandem with any of this is enough to set Sans' face like stone and douse his eyelights completely.
It's a frightening look on the man, though it's not J that needed to be scared.]
no subject
Let him. There it is again, as if underlined in red ink. Two little words that flew in the face of everything that came after. How old could she have been then? She was practically a baby now, a little younger than Papyrus, and somehow even thinking about his brother in tandem with any of this is enough to set Sans' face like stone and douse his eyelights completely.
It's a frightening look on the man, though it's not J that needed to be scared.]
I see.