Error sighed.

there was never anything to do in this... box of nothingness.

he felt trapped.

with a plain white floor, no walls and no ceiling.

you would think you were floating.

he glared at his hands.

when there's nothing to do, why not have a staring contest?

...all he could see was dust.

he glared harder and balled his hands into fists.

he shook slightly.

he was bored.

angry.

annoyed.

paranoid.

...empty.

you would think a mass murderer like Error would have a head filled with unfiltered insanity.

but no.

he was just... empty.

he breathed out, noticing how his breath turned to mist.

why was it so cold?

temperature shouldn't exist in a void meant to hold nothing

...he was nothing.

just an illusion...

he held his knees up to his chest and wept.

he cried for god knows how long.

he rubbed his sockets and stood up.

he made a portal and stepped out.

Ink added some shading to a patch of grass and stood back, observing his masterpiece.

he wiped his paint-covered hand on his trousers, only getting paint everywhere.

he frowned slightly and looked closer, noticing how Dreams crown didn't look 'shiny enough.'

Ink sighed and chuckled.

it was December the 18th, that meant it was Dream and Nightmares birthday in three days.

he had sent a little parcel to Nightmare beforehand. 

he had no doubt he ripped it up ages ago, this was why he was painting this.

Ink knew Dream wouldn't let Nightmare anywhere near this painting.

he remembered he still had paint stuck to himself and went into the bathroom to wet a rag.

after cleaning his face and hands, he went into the living room and collapsed onto the couch with a bored groan.

he was bored... again.

Blue was probably hanging out this Chara.

he doesn't want to speak to Error after their last fight.

fresh... is weird.

god knows what everyone else is doing.

I sighed over-dramatically and slid off the couch and onto the floor.

Ink thought back to the last battle between him and Error.

He was still mad about how Error used his autophobia* against him.

-flashback-

"Error we don't have to-"

"shut up ink! your attempts to get me to change my mind are USELESS. You think you're the good guy but all you do is bring misery! You've made so many AUs that they have started to collapse in on themselves." 

"that's not-"

"Im not nearly done with you. whatever you do, whatever your choice, SOMEBODY will ALWAYS die. I've seen those AU collapse with my own two sockets and all that's left behind are masses of dusty clothes"

"...go away"

"aww. is the little mistake feeling sad-"

thwack!

"LEAVE"

He winced at the memory.

it was only a day ago as well.

he remembered laughing at Errors expression as he backhanded him.

the back of his hand was bruised as well.

but...

it had to be false.

Error would never save something.

It was impossible anyway.

he just doesn't have the soul.

I felt an uneasy coldness creep up my spine.

I knew Error was destroying one of my creations, so I took no time getting my scarf and paintbrush.

I entered the AU just as Error was crushing a soul.

I shuddered as Error turned around to face me.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in"

hhhhhhhaaa

again pretty much nothing belongs to me

*autophobia- the fear of being abandoned, alone or isolated.