Within the middle of nowhere in a white void sat two figures. One donned many layers of color, with their paints, suspenders, beige outfit, and cyan accents. The other, too, had at least four layers of thick clothing on, all of it somehow black or white. If it weren't for the black, the skeleton would have perfectly blanded into the void. The former had given themselves the name "Ink", and the latter had been given the name " Sans". Sans hated his name, though, so he chose "Cross" as his title instead.

The two skeletons were sitting next to each other, drawing, coloring, and talking. Papers were scattered around the two, each holding either a detailed sketch of a random Sans, or a somewhat nice drawing of monochrome characters. The details were a bit iffy, but Cross was always happy with how the drawings turned out. Ink was happy for him.

Their day was going as usual, Cross drawing his family, Ink drawing whomever was on his mind, and the two talking about random things. Today was one of the rare days that Ink brought outside food, and today he brought tacos. Cross was happy.

While eating the food provided by Ink, Cross looked at his drawings, then at what remained of his universe, then lastly, at Ink. Ink, the Creator--from what Cross gathered. He wasn't sure if Ink was actually the Creator, or just a guardian. Cross at least knew Ink could create. That much was obvious. Cross thought for a bit, Ink's rambling about some other universe and the sounds of him munching on his taco becoming white noise. If Ink could create anything he wanted, did that mean he could fix his AU? His home? It was worth a try.

Cross swallowed the rest of his food, then turned towards Ink, who was introduced eh middle of drawing a Sans. Cross immediately recognized him as Blueberry, the one who made the tacos. Cross liked him, or at least, liked what he had heard about the small energetic skeleton. His thoughts on Blueberry were cut short when Ink called out to him.

"Cross? You ever been staring at my drawing for a while. Do you need something?"

"Ah, well... Yeah... Sorry for staring." Cross's face flushed in embarrassment. How long had he zoned out?

"Not a problem! Anyways," Ink put down his penil and turned towards Cross. "What did you wanna ask me?"

This was it. It was now. He was going to find out whether or not Ink could fix his universe. Fix his life. Taking a muted breath, Cross spoke.

"You're the Creator, right?" Cross asked timidly.

"What..? Oh, no, no, no! No, I'm not the Creator, haha! I'm merely the guardian of Creation. Nothing more, and nothing less." Ink laughed. Cross's blush grew even more opaque frm embarrassment. Of course he was the Guardian, silly him. Cross felt stupid.

"Well... You can create, right?" Cross asked quietly.

"But of course. Why do you ask?" Ink replied, looking at Cross curiously.

"Could you... Recreate my universe?" Cross asked, looking up at Ink with a shimmer of hope in his eyelights. He hoped to whatever other gods existed outside of his universe that Ink would say yes.

Ink's eyelights disappeared. Cross immediately tried to take back the question, fearing that he had done something to Ink.

"A-ah, I'm sorry, Ink! I-I'll take it b-" Ink quickly cut him off.

"Cross... I can't do that. I can't revive the dead." Ink's eyelights came back, the usual pattern being restored.

Cross froze. Any comment he had caught in his throat. Ink's words forced him to face the reality. He was damned to eternity with a blank universe and this DAMN ghost attached to his SOUL. How-? He knew Ink could create... So why couldn't he help Cross? Was he lying? Did he lie about everything?

"... Leave. Just- Just go. I need to be alone." Cross spoke silently.

"Okay, then." Ink then paints a portal, then jumps through. The paint quickly dries up, as if it were never there.

Cross sat alone in silence until he fell asleep.

The next day, Ink didn't visit.

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696 words, mmmmmmmm-
Have fun guessing the ship, ig
(Tip, it's ain't Crink XD)