Sans is all too willing to accept even something that doesn't add up in his own thoughts, because of the sudden, and all-encompassing need to not think about something so trivial, so unimportant anymore. It doesn't matter. Their excuse is plenty. Sans lets it go, while a voice at the back of his thoughts rails against it.
"...Sure," he relents, shrugging. "Who's there?"
The skeleton might even seem like he's over it, if not for the momentary hesitation, the way his dim eyelights sweep down and to the left, weighed down by a guilt he can't place.
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Sans is all too willing to accept even something that doesn't add up in his own thoughts, because of the sudden, and all-encompassing need to not think about something so trivial, so unimportant anymore. It doesn't matter. Their excuse is plenty. Sans lets it go, while a voice at the back of his thoughts rails against it.
"...Sure," he relents, shrugging. "Who's there?"
The skeleton might even seem like he's over it, if not for the momentary hesitation, the way his dim eyelights sweep down and to the left, weighed down by a guilt he can't place.