#blackedge

He was staring into the mirror, Edge glaring pointedly at the back of his head. The ‘small gash’ was massive, actually, cutting from near the top of his forehead down to his eye. It reminded him of his father and the thought made him a little sick. Still, he couldn’t appear weaker than he already did to Edge. It was bad enough that he was one of the only versions of Sans that could be on Edge’s level of ‘tough’, but to be so injured by a simple cut.

“I know that.” The reply was growled at him and Black shivered at the tone. Edge took the opportunity to turn Black around, grabbing his hips and setting him on the counter edge of the sink. “But if you wanna prove it, then stop whining when I’m helping you.” There was a tense moment of eye contact before Black relented and dropped his hands, tilting his chin up to give Edge better access. “Thank you.” Edge’s tone did a complete 180, ever the gentle giant when he was with those he loved.

“Don’t try and heal the scar completely. I think it looks nice.”

“Trying to copy me, then?”