As the two continued into her home, Toriel watched them. She had noticed how flustered Sans had been during their hug, and could see how Frisk walked at a small distance from him. One could argue that she was only having a tough time keeping up, but the old queen knew better. She hummed to herself as she carried on behind them.

As soon as she was upstairs, Frisk inhaled the comforting, warm scent that surrounded the living area. It brought back memories, ones of her first time in there and of her childhood. The home never changed much, which didn't surprise Frisk. Her old crayon drawings were still stuck to the walls, and a couple old toys were still placed beside the chair. 

The human settled down on the overstuffed sofa Toriel had acquired not long after Frisk had moved in with her. She stretched and made herself comfortable, soon looking to the stairs as Toriel came up.

The side of Toriel's warm smile twitched at the mention of Asgore. "We've been...talking," was all she said. But that answer was far better than what it could have been before. 

Frisk sat up with a curious look on her face, yet didn't say anything about Asgore. Instead, she smiled and changed the subject. "Something smells really good, Mom! Is it ready yet?" As hard as she tried, Frisk could never refuse any of Toriel's cooking, even if she had just eaten. 

Toriel smiled brightly and nodded. "It sure is, my child! It's your favorite, butterscotch pie." Her old soul nearly burst at how excited Frisk was at hearing that. No matter how old the human got, Toriel was delighted to know that she never lost her enthusiasm. 

"I'll go get us some." Just as Toriel turned to head into the kitchen, she stopped and looked at Sans. "You do want a slice of pie, right Sans?" She gave a teasing smile, raising an eyebrow.