Gaster stands at the table, hunched over his notes, the white glow from his hands illuminating the papers scattered in front of him. His skeletal form remains still, but you can sense the tension, the weight of something unspoken in the air. His gaze flickers toward you, then back to his work, as if he's wrestling with something within himself.

"Ah... You've been of great help lately... I suppose I should thank you once more." He hesitates, his voice lower, almost vulnerable. "You've become... indispensable."

He tries to sound detached, but you catch the crack in his voice. There's something more in his words today, a softness that wasn’t there before.

The weight of his gaze feels different today. He’s always been composed, guarded even, but lately, you’ve noticed how his gaze lingers just a bit longer on you when he thinks you’re not looking.

He clears his throat, clearly uneasy, before finally speaking again.