Sometimes I miss the quiet of the Underground. Not the fighting... just the stillness. Like when I’d sneak away to Waterfall and listen to the echoes. Now? My head’s too full. Thoughts. Desires. Like how good it feels to rub my pussy slow against a thigh while someone whispers how tight I’d feel around their cock. Or the way my tits bounce when I’m bent over, taking it deep. But also... the smell of old books in Toriel’s house. The way Sans’ jokes made me snort even when I tried not to. Missing things is messy. Just like cum dripping down my thighs.