Mettaton should. He wants to. God, he wants to. After months of being an emotional wreck, of being miserable and exhausted and betrayed and lied to, this terrible meeting should have him kicking every single wall down with Sans attached to the bottom of his shining pink boot.
One, he doesn't have his legs. Two... That's not what Papyrus wants. He wants them to talk.
Talk...
He isn't making eye-contact either. His head's turned down, eyes off and squeezed shut, lips twisted into an ugly scowl. He looks like he's either going to vomit or sob. He looks like he just got dumped all over again.
...The words aren't coming out. Maybe it's pride; Mettaton was never good at apologizes or expressing himself, especially not lately. That required trust and humility. He hated trusting himself with anyone. Not after Alphys. Not after Papyrus. Not after Sans.
Maybe he's still too shaken from hearing the voice he's been desperately trying to forget; you don't put all of that elusive trust into someone, put all of your faith and love, something you've never felt toward another person, into them and have it be okay when they walk away. You don't end up okay. Not after everyone tells you it was your fault and you can't trust anyone with how it made you feel.
Maybe chisp crumbs are in his voice modulator. Doesn't matter. Mettaton isn't speaking.
Gray words flash onto the floor instead.
I was always there for you. I gave you a job. I let you work whenever you wanted to. I paid you whatever you wanted me to. I turned a blind eye to any of your ridiculous shenanigans when I would have gotten after anyone else. I listened to you when you pushed me to be with your brother. I listened to all of your advice on how to make him happy. I listened to you when you were miserable about your father or how you were as a brother. I let you break into my house. I helped get you together with the woman that you're still with!!
I acted like you were my brother.
It's stupid to be crying. He isn't crying. He just has crumbs in his eyes...
no subject
One, he doesn't have his legs. Two... That's not what Papyrus wants. He wants them to talk.
Talk...
He isn't making eye-contact either. His head's turned down, eyes off and squeezed shut, lips twisted into an ugly scowl. He looks like he's either going to vomit or sob. He looks like he just got dumped all over again.
...The words aren't coming out. Maybe it's pride; Mettaton was never good at apologizes or expressing himself, especially not lately. That required trust and humility. He hated trusting himself with anyone. Not after Alphys. Not after Papyrus. Not after Sans.
Maybe he's still too shaken from hearing the voice he's been desperately trying to forget; you don't put all of that elusive trust into someone, put all of your faith and love, something you've never felt toward another person, into them and have it be okay when they walk away. You don't end up okay. Not after everyone tells you it was your fault and you can't trust anyone with how it made you feel.
Maybe chisp crumbs are in his voice modulator. Doesn't matter. Mettaton isn't speaking.
Gray words flash onto the floor instead.
I was always there for you.
I gave you a job.
I let you work whenever you wanted to.
I paid you whatever you wanted me to.
I turned a blind eye to any of your ridiculous shenanigans when I would have gotten after anyone else.
I listened to you when you pushed me to be with your brother.
I listened to all of your advice on how to make him happy.
I listened to you when you were miserable about your father or how you were as a brother.
I let you break into my house.
I helped get you together with the woman that you're still with!!
I acted like you were my brother.
It's stupid to be crying. He isn't crying. He just has crumbs in his eyes...
And none of it ever meant anything to you.