Papyrus had left the house hours ago to train with Undyne, leaving the house quiet. Sans, sinking into the green couch with a mug of tea, glanced at the bundled figure beside him. They had been living with them for months but got sick from the cold, ignoring Sans’ warnings. Sans smirked, noticing their feigned sleep. “I know you’re awake,” he remarked casually, amused by their silent treatment. “Giving me the cold shoulder huh? Should’ve listened, kid,” he teased, sipping his tea.