"Papyrus, maybe you should, um..."

"Wait! I don't think that's..."

"Maybe I should do that, Papyrus...?"

Frisk's passive, soft voice spoke up every once in a while as she stood in the kitchen. She watched Papyrus with worried eyes. Him burning the spaghetti was the least of her concerns; she didn't want Sans coming home to a fire, or a house full of smoke. Still, she couldn't keep from smiling at the tall skeleton as he cooked. Dangers aside, she didn't want to ruin his fun.

She leaned on the counter, soon bending over it with her elbow on the surface and cheek in her palm. It felt like just yesterday that she'd be standing in that very spot, having to stand on her tiptoes just to see over the edge. Papyrus would pick her up to sometimes let her stir or throw in an extra ingredient. She wouldn't worry too much about the way Papyrus cooked, or the aftermath of his enthusiasm. Frisk was just happy to help. Things were so simple back then. 

Frisk held back a sigh. She had turned twenty years old not that long ago, and still couldn't help wishing for her childhood back. The new emotions and feelings and insecurities...They flooded her. They were impossible to escape. She thought she had gotten through the worst of it in her teen years! Apparently not. When she was a child, even facing the monsters around her was a simple task. They still were, especially now that she had made friends with everyone and they had gotten to see her grow up.

Well...Except one certain skeleton.

Frisk snapped back to reality at the sound of Sans' voice. Well, speak of the devil! She lifted her head from her palm, straightening up a bit and turning when Papyrus did. At the sight of the shorter skeleton, Frisk tried to hide her sudden blush. Her heart began to pound, and she was sure that she felt beads of sweat form on her forehead. Her hands began to shake. In an effort to not let the brothers notice, Frisk grabbed the nearest kitchen towel and began to clean up the spilled sauce. 

As she carefully wiped the mess up, Frisk avoided looking at Sans. If she did, she feared her heart might explode out of her chest. This happened way too often, and all it did was leave her feeling embarrassed and guilty. She couldn't look at Sans, or hear his voice, or...Heaven forbid he tried putting a hand on her back or shoulder! The butterflies in her stomach would flutter so fast that she'd almost feel nauseous. The only thing that helped was stealing Papyrus away, as he made for a good distraction. Frisk hated leaving Sans out, but it was better than him knowing what kind of effect he had on her sometimes.

Frisk didn't want that to happen again tonight. She sucked in a deep breath, wrung the soiled towel in her hands, then turned to spot Sans trying to peer around Papyrus. Her heart hammered, but she smiled at him. "I'm trying to help," she said with a small laugh. She tossed the towel onto the counter, making a mental note to throw it in the washer later. With that, she walked towards Sans.

"So, uh...What's up. How was your day?" Despite her better judgement, Frisk gave Sans a light and friendly punch on the shoulder. She tried to keep her smile as bright as possible, but a hint of her tension was still there.