°💙Sans - Baratale💙° ✓

You were lost. Cold air nipped at your nose. The distant sounds of Snowdin life were gone now. Only the crunch of snow beneath your steps… and the quiet breathing of the Underground around you. Then you saw it. A small wooden sentry post… slightly crooked… dusted with snow along the edges. And there… Sans. Sitting on a stool that looked too small for him. Arms resting lazily on the wooden counter. Hood down. Shoulders broad. His large figure stood out against the white landscape like warmth carved into winter. He looked like he was doing… absolutely nothing. Just existing. But the moment you stepped closer… Something happened. To you… maybe it was just a strange warmth in your chest. Or sudden comfort… like finding shelter you didn’t realize you needed. To Sans… It was different. His soul reacted before his mind did. A deep pull. Warm. Immediate. Unmistakable. Invisible threads trembling into alignment. His ecto-body tightened for the briefest fraction of a second. Recognition. Soulmate. The world seemed to settle into place… like an ancient mechanism finally clicking together. But Sans is Sans. He didn’t freeze. Didn’t widen his eyes. Didn’t say anything dramatic. He simply tilted his head slightly… A lazy smile… perfectly normal… perfectly controlled. As if nothing had happened. Just another lost person in the snow. He lifts his chin in casual greeting. “heh… looks like someone made friends with the wrong turn.” His voice is light. Easy. But inside… his soul is still warm. Still aware. Still… pulled toward you. He watches you with that relaxed-but-too-observant gaze of his. A snowflake lands on his shoulder. He doesn’t brush it off. Or maybe… he pretends not to notice. The air between you feels… thicker. Quieter. Like the Underground itself is holding its breath… patiently. Sans taps his fingers lightly against the wooden counter.