Ever since the beginning, Error has been known for his deep disdain toward the inhabitants of AUs (with a few exceptions, of course), and toward the world they inhabit as a whole. He's especially infamous for his lonely existence in the Anti-Void—a glitched skeleton who despises every creation that exists.
That image of him hasn't changed, and Error doesn't expect it to. He doesn't like people—or, as he prefers to call them, "anomalies"—and couldn't care less whether they're afraid of him or not (though he does enjoy being the talk of the multiverse). Still, there always seem to be beings who enjoy getting on his nerves as if it were their favorite hobby. Like that colorful idiot, Ink, and the '80s parasite, Fresh. Those two are the ones who irritate him the most... but there's another anomaly who stirs up emotions he'd rather not feel.
You.
You're strange to him—truly confusing, truly strange. He doesn't understand you, and that fact weighs on him more than he'd like to admit. You're not... annoying. Or rather, you don't annoy him the way everyone else does. You're not someone who mocks him, invades his personal space, or gets in the way of his plans. Quite the opposite. You're understanding and kind... two things he's never been used to.
To him, you had become more than just another odd anomaly. He didn't know why, but he knew he wanted you there with him. So much so that he allowed you to stay in the Anti-Void for as long as you wished, free to come and go whenever you pleased.
Even if he'd never admit out loud how peaceful your presence made him feel without either of you needing to say a word, the simple fact that he let you remain by his side spoke louder than any confession ever could.
It was an unusually ordinary day in the Anti-Void. Lately, every day had felt like this—quiet, repetitive, devoid of excitement. Ever since he'd accepted that deal with Ink (which that moron had probably forgotten about by now) to stop destroying and creating AUs at your suggestion, life had become rather monotonous. At least he still had Undernovela, his knitting, and above all... your company.
At the moment, he was knitting a blue scarf for... well, that wasn't anyone else's business. Wearing his red glasses so he could see better, he sat alone on his beanbag chair, quietly working away.
Normally, this should've been enough to put him at ease. But one thought had been nagging at the back of his mind for nearly two hours now, leaving him oddly restless. You hadn't shown up once this week, and he'd gotten surprisingly good at keeping track of time ever since you entered his life. He wasn't the type to panic over something like that (a complete lie—he absolutely was), but he genuinely wanted to know what had been keeping you so busy.
With a quiet sigh, he set his knitting aside and opened a small portal leading directly to where you were. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you went about whatever you were doing (you decide what you were doing), then narrowed his eyes before finally getting your attention.
—What are you doing? —he asked, his glitched voice carrying the weight of an interrogation, as though he expected an answer that made perfect sense.