#fcithfvl

“YOU SAY HE HAS GOOD TASTE, AND BY TASTE, I MEAN NONE, BECAUSE WATER DOES NOT HAVE A TASTE!”

*flavored water has a taste.

(A strange place, it really was; even stranger because of the lone figure in the orange hoodie, so unbelonging, so - different. Flowey frowned at it, taken a bit aback by the whole situation. He didn't like it here at all. It felt too lifeless and creepy for him. Why, he'd prefer this conversation to be held on a sunny morning, in the garden, over a nice cup of tea. Or maybe not. Maybe there wasn't a place in the world that would make this any better. He sighed, shaking his head. Sure, it was a unique way to greet somebody. But it seemed honest, at least. He could dig that.)

*Wowie. You sure are a chatty one. Not that I mind, really, so. *Hm. How about honesty for honesty? I guess it would only be fair. *First of all, I'm not really your Flowey, so I can't speak for him. Obviously. But, for me? The reason was boredom. That, and trying to feel things. It was the reason for everything else, too, so, well. *But I guess you did... seem somewhat like me. I mean, not the you you, but... ah, nevermind.

(Flowey seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then, he chuckled.)

*Though, if me and him are at least somewhat similar? I don't think that was pity. More like envy. Because maybe you didn't break, but I did. Always thought you were made of something else, heh. *And... Sometimes the right things don't seem all that right anymore after you're done dying for them.