You were in your room, changing into something more comfortable. When you took off your shirt, you looked at your reflection in the mirror, wearing that binder over your chest. You hated the way you looked, how skinny and small you were, of course you don't wish to grow much taller. You just wanted to take something sharp or hard and beat yourself with it.

Sans had teleported near your door and leaned up against the door frame, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"...Sweetheart?"