Previously

"We should head back inside now. It's getting colder..." BP suggests, rubbing his hands together to create warmth.

We make our way back to the house, first getting the snow off our boots on the porch.

We watch a small comedy together, me and PJ sharing a warm blanket as the sound of laughter fills the air.

Soon after the movie ends, Mr. Ink and Mr. Error return from their errands. They agree to take the others home. Everyone says their final goodbyes before the door closes.

Now

Under the mistletoe, PJ and I shared a special moment. Even though it's only been a few weeks, I feel a special connection with him. The feeling of longing and maybe a hint of clinginess are so clear but so hazy at the same time. I'm a little crazy sometimes~

* * * * * *

The moment the timer hits zero, PJ pulls me into a tight hug and holds me close. I enjoy being in his arms, the warm feeling in my soul sending happy signals to my brain. With him, I will be safe.

We lean in close and he breaks the gap first. This...this is love.

* * * * * *

A fresh start to a new year! Every weekend I have is more time spent with Ms. Avery.

It's been a few months already and she's like a dormant volcano, showing no signs of living other than her beating heart and shallow breathing.

Despite this, I visit her anyway. I really wish I could bring her some flowers. She always liked flowers. But these types of gifts aren't allowed in the Intensive Care Unit. So I decide on a picture frame to set on her bedside table. It's a photograph of us two, smiling at the camera. I made bunny ears with my fingers and had my tongue sticking out while she had an arm wrapped around my shoulder, laughing.

I smile at the photo and prop it on the nightstand. I take her hand, which has wires wrapped around her arm, and put them in mine.

"Hey, Ms. Avery. Happy New Year! I wish you were here to celebrate it with me. PJ has been treating me well as per usual, Cil is still his happy-go-lucky self, and Mr. Ink and Mr. Error are amazing parent figures. But I really miss you."

I talk and talk in the one-sided conversation. I know she can't respond, but I am certain that she's listening one way or another.

I don't realize tears are falling down my face before they drip onto the bedsheets and my voice begins to break.

There are two feelings that I can't exactly describe. One is a mix of remembrance and memory. The recollection of all the fun times I had with Ms. Avery when she wasn't like this. The second is the feeling of missing her. She was and is my everything. She was a mother to me when my mother wasn't around. She was family despite not being blood-related. What would I do if you decide to give up on this world?

* * * * * *

Dr. Denmark is finally letting me off the hook! I don't have weekly checkups anymore since I'm feeling better, mind you, not the best, but certainly manageable.

* * * * * *

After walking into school hand-in-hand with PJ, we go our separate ways to class.

I take my books and papers off from my locker shelf and shut the locked door. Just as I turn around, I bump into someone. I land on my behind with an "oof" as books drop and papers go flying.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I'm always clumsy in the morning!" I yelp out strings of apologies, helping the stranger pick up his books and papers.

"No, no, I bumped into you first! I'm so sorry!"

I look up at who I bumped into and come face to face with Fresh. Of course, I know him since he's incredibly close with Alphys, but, otherwise, I'm not familiar with him.

"Oh, you're Fresh, right?" I finish gathering my belongings and hand him his books.

"I am, you must be (Y/N)."

"Yep! What class do you have next?"

'Maybe this is a chance to get to know him better!'

"I have history with Mr. Nightmare. And assuming from your books, you have science with Dr. Gaster."

"Mmhmm. You're right."

The bell rings, signaling that everyone should get to their classes.

"Wanna meet in the library at lunch?" He suggests.

"I wouldn't mind," I smile and agree, "Now we better get to class before we're late!"

"See you at lunch."

* * * * * *

"Hey, PJ," I gently tug on his sleeve.

"Yes, Angel Eyes?" he turns his head to face me.

"I'll be meeting with a friend in the library to study. I hope that's okay!"

"Who is it?"

"It's Fresh, I want to get to know him better!"

"Okay then. Just be safe, alright?"

"What do you mean? Why is he not 'safe'?"

"Well...rumors are going around again. But I'll tell you some other time. You don't wanna be late."

"Alright then," I smile and peck him on the cheek before taking off to the library on the second floor.

I walk in and quietly greet Mr. Goth, who's peacefully reading a book behind his desk. He waves back with a welcoming grin.

I find Fresh at a table by himself. He has books and assignments in front of him and is scribbling on a piece of paper. I pull up a chair and sit down next to him.

"Hey, Fresh. Sorry, I kept you waiting."

He looks up from his paper and smiles at me, "It's not a problem."

I set down my backpack on the floor and pull out some worksheets that Dr. Gaster gave me. It was on the property of human souls.

I take out a pen and start annotating the article in front of me.

It is well known to most that there are seven main soul types, determination, bravery, justice, kindness, patience, integrity, and perseverance. However, recent studies have shown that if a human is to be so full of hate, their traits will start to change. These traits, now called hatred traits, will essentially be the same but is a vice instead of a virtue. It is a slow process that happens gradually and may seem almost unnoticeable.

For instance, determination is now transformed into obstinacy. Both convey the same meaning, but one is put into a negative light. The other hatred traits, recklessness, vengeance, meekness, inaction, decency, and tenacity, all correspond to their respective positive traits.

Lately, there has been a slight increase in hatred traits due to the growing hatred of society. Fortunately, some humans have learned to gain immunity from the spread of hatred, although, they are fairly rare. These people have, what we call, pure souls. Approximately one in a hundred people have pure souls.

Although a pure soul may sound like a person would be happy all the time, this is not the case. They will still experience sadness, despair, and everything in between. However, they do not allow these feelings to take over them.

While reading the article, I start mumbling some of the information aloud to myself.

When I finish and am about to move onto history, I glance over at Fresh to catch him turning away from me and back to his papers.

'Was he staring at me the entire time...?'

I think for a moment before shrugging it off and starting history.

* * * * * *

After a period of studying and getting some help from Fresh, the bell rings for next class.

"Should we meet again tomorrow?" He suggests while putting away his papers.

"Sure, I don't mind. You want my number?" I ask, dropping books into my bag.

"Alright," he hands me his planner and a pen.

On the bottom corner of the page, I write my contact information. I hand him back his planner and pen and swing my bag over my shoulder.

"Gotta run, see ya tomorrow!" I sprint out of the library and down the stairs. I don't want to be late!

* * * * * *

PJ and I are hanging out on the bleachers during gym since we finished laps a bit early.

"You've been meeting with Fresh all week, haven't you?"

"Hm? Yeah," I respond, a bit obliviously.

"It's...nevermind. It's nothing."

"What is it? You know you can tell me."

He doesn't respond.

A light bulb clicks in my head, "Is my Jammy a little jealous~?"

"What? No..." He crosses his arms and pouts.

"That pout says otherwise~" I continue to lightly tease him while poking his cheek with my forefinger.

"Okay, fine...maybe...just a little bit..."

I giggle, "Alright alright. Just one more day. Then, you'll have me all to yourself next week, okay?"

"Okay..." He mumbles quietly.

* * * * * *

"Hey, Fresh," I sit down at our normal table and start pulling out papers from my bag.

"Hey," he simply replies.

We both turn to our work and let the silence fill the air.

Every few questions, I occasionally glance at Fresh, and every time, I catch him staring at me. When he notices that I've noticed, he turns away with a bright blue blush over his face and continues to scribble words on his paper. I contemplate on asking him about it, but I would need to find the right time or it would be awkward.

I decide to ignore it for now and put away my completed worksheets. I ponder on what to do with the remainder of my time before deciding to wander the bookshelves.

I get up from the table and start with the closest shelves. On the racks are a variety of colored novels, each of them stacked neatly against each other. I stroll through the shelves, picking through a few random books to see if any of them interest me.

"Quantum Physics and Alternate Universes...72 Uses for Snails...An Ordinary Joke Book..." I mumble a few book titles to myself.

A few shelves over, I spot a book that catches my attention more than anything else. I pull it out of the shelf and admire the hardback book cover. The cover is a dark shade of mustard yellow, giving it an old-timey feel. There are two figures standing towards each other. The silhouettes of a human and a monster holding out their weapons.

"Years of Warfare," I murmur the title quietly to myself. I take the book with me back to the table and bury my face in it. Before I know it, I get so immersed in the story, I lose track of time.

Fresh gently nudges me to grab my attention.

"Uhhhh, (Y/N)? The bell's about to ring."

"Huh? Oh! Okay then," I pack up my papers and grab my bag and the book I was reading.

He walks with me to Mr. Goth so that I could check out the book.

"Here you go. Enjoy that book!" He smiles kindly at me before handing me the book back with a receipt for the return date.

"I will, thank you, Mr. Goth."

"You are certainly welcome."

I put the book in my bag and Fresh and I walk out of the library.

"Right, Fresh, I forgot to tell you that I won't be in the library next week. PJ's getting a bit jelly," I laugh.

"Oh um...that's fine," he mumbles a bit dejectedly.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit down."

"Uhh, yeah! I'm fi—"

The loud sound of the bell interrupts our conversation.

"I can't be late again!" He starts sprinting down the hall, rushing towards the stairs.

In his attempt to get to his next class, he drops a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. Before I could call for him, he's already disappeared. I stare at the paper and bend down to pick it up. On the corner of the paper is a small blue heart.

'Looks like somebody's got a crush,' I joke in my head, 'I'll have to find him after school.'

I stuff the paper in the side pocket of my bag.

And just like Fresh, I start sprinting through the hallways and down the stairs.

* * * * * *

The end of the day finally comes and I wait outside the school.

Me:
Fresh
You dropped a note when you were running down to class
You need it back?

Even after five minutes of waiting, there was no response nor did I see the colorful skeleton exiting the building.

"Where could he be?" I ask no one in particular.

Another ten minutes of waiting later, I give in to the fact that he's nowhere and go home.

The moment I walk through the front door, my phone lets out a small chime.

90s Skele:
Hey
Sorry I wasnt responding
My phone died during lunchtime

Me:
No worries

I put my backpack down next to my desk and plop down on my chair.

90s Skele:
You said I dropped a note?

Me:
Yea you did
Do I have your permission to open it?

90s Skele:
Yea sure

I reach down to the side pocket of my bag and pull out the neatly folded up paper. I put down my phone and slowly unfold the paper.

Dear (Y/N),

(Y/N), if you get this letter, then that means I've finally sucked up the courage to talk to you (or if I didn't, it's fine either way).

There's been something I've been meaning to tell you since the first few days of school. I first noticed you when you were cast as the part of Eliza in the musical. When I finally got to hear your voice myself, I couldn't help but fall for you. Cheesy, I know, right?

I was writing this letter as a confession for my love for you. That is until I realized how much happier you seemed with Paperjam.

So, instead of a confession letter, I'll write this to you as something I needed to get off my chest. As something that I wasn't able to bottle up or suppress.

I really hope this doesn't change anything between us because I really do enjoy studying with you even if it's a little awkward.

I just hope you can accept me even after this letter.

From your not so secret admirer
Fresh

All words escape me in this comment.

'A confession letter??'

I prop my phone on its side and start a video call with Fresh.

"F-Fresh?"

"What happened? Why is your face is red?"

I take a moment to touch my cheeks, and as he said, they were warm.

"I-It was the p-paper you dropped!" I start fumbling with the paper in my hand and accidentally drop it.

"What does it say?"

I bend down to pick it up.

'Screw my shaky hands...'

"I-It says, 'D-Dear (Y/N), if you get this l-letter, then I-I've sucked up the c-courage to talk to y-yo—'"

"Oh my God! I dropped that letter!?" His face erupts into a blue mess.

I stop speaking. There's nothing I can say. There's nothing he can say either. We just sit in silence...

"I am....so sorry..."

"N-No, it's fine...But y-you do need to k-know that I can't r-reciprocate those f-feelings."

"Yeah, I should've known better..."

"D-Don't feel bad about i-it," I nervously smile, "I-It's not your fault."

"Thanks..."

Another wave of silence washes over us.

"I-If you don't want to make t-this a big deal, I won't t-think about it."

"Yeah," he nervously rubs his neck, "I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

"It's not a p-problem."

* * * * * *

After showering and dinner, I sit back at my desk and pull out the library book. I rest my head on my arms and plop the book down.

Two hours in, I've almost finished half the book until a wave of exhaustion hit me. I try to fight back the tiredness and regain my focus on the pages in front of me, but my eyelids are refusing to stay open.

I drift in and out of it for a few minutes before my sleepiness eventually won.

PJ's POV

I walk down the hallway to (Y/N)'s room.

"Hey, (Y/N). Would you mind helping me with homewo—"

I look into her room since the door is wide open and stop myself when I see her head down on the desk.

Her breathing is quiet and slowed as if she is sleeping. I quietly chuckle and grab the blanket on the bed to put it over her shoulders.

In the process of doing so, I notice an unfolded sheet of loose-leaf paper opened up on the desk.

'I shouldn't invade her privacy...'

On the corner of the page is a small heart drawn on with a blue pen.

'I shouldn't...I won't, I won't. I'll just...ask her tomorrow.'

I sigh, but put a smile on my face, "Sleep well, Angel Eyes."

* * * * * *

(Y/N)'s POV

I drag myself downstairs and into the living room to see PJ sitting comfortably on the couch.

"Morning, Jammy," I rub my eyes to get the tiredness out.

"Morning, Angel Eyes~"

I flop down on the couch next to him, lean my head on his shoulder, and yawn.

He puts an arm on my shoulder and gives me a side hug.

"Sleep well?"

"Kinda," I wrap my arms around him.

"Why don't you go get breakfast first and come back?"

"Hmmmm..." I groan in protest, "But you're warm..." I scoot a bit closer to him.

"Come on, you need to eat at least a little something," he gently urges me.

"Fine, fine," I get up from the couch and shuffle over to the kitchen where Mr. Ink and Mr. Error greet me with good mornings. I reply back with my own good morning and thank them for the waffles as I take them back into the living room.

I set the plate on my lap, stab the waffle piece with my fork, and stuff it in my mouth.

"Mmmmm..." I hum, satisfied.

He chuckles and then falls silent. The cheery morning atmosphere is suddenly replaced with an ominous feeling.

"PJ?" I ask in an attempt to break the silence, "What's wrong?'

"(Y/N). How much do you love me?"

"Hm? Why so sudden?" I felt a bit taken aback as the question came out on nowhere.

"Just...answer the question..."

"Well, how would I describe it? Love can't be measured in quantities or sizes like other things. I can only say that I love you very much!"

He lets a long pause pass by, "Would you ever...cheat...on me?"

"What!? No! Never!" I loudly protest, "Where did these assumptions come from?"

"Then, who wrote you that note?" He snaps and his voice becomes almost demanding.

"W-What note?" I stutter as his voice raises a bit in volume.

He seems to sense my fear and lowers his voice to a normal level, "When I came into your room yesterday and found you sleeping at your desk, I put a blanket over your shoulders. But I also found an open letter with a blue heart just lying on your desk."

"T-That letter? That w-was a confession lette—"

He cuts me off, "Who wrote it?"

"U-Uhh, it was F-Fresh," I blurt out.

"...I'm gonna kill him..." He mutters under his breath angrily and clenches his fist.

"P-PJ, it's okay. Just c-calm down," I reassure him, "He said he would back off after I confronted him."

"..."

"Everything i-is fine. Don't be mad a-at him," I lower my voice to a soft murmur and cup his cheek, "Everything is okay."

He puts a hand over my mine and slows his speech, his expression softening, "I...I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions..."

"It's okay, it's okay. I will never cheat on you. I promise."

He puts my hand down but is still grasping it firmly, "Me too...I promise I'll never cheat on you. I don't usually make promises...but I'll keep this one. Just for you."

~A/N~

I—
Milestone after milestone huh? OwO
Thank you guys for your support! :D
Here's a small riddle for the next chapter:

mrots eht erofeb mlac

No hints because that'll give it away
Feel free to comment down what you think it means ;P

Word count: 3425 words (including A/N)

*nopes out*