“The human asked me to convey their deepest apologies. They didn’t expect you have such a visceral reaction.”

“Shouldn’t’ve. Stupid,” Red mumbled, gazing numbly at his hands. Every joint burned from being scrubbed so frantically and clammy nausea still clung to his back.

It was just flour, not dust. He of all people should know how to take a joke.

The longer Boss stared at him, assessing, the tighter his throat became. It only worsened when he sank down and loosely draped a hand over his forearm.

“I’m right here, Sans.” His voice was atypically low. “They haven’t hurt me.”