Smooth purple flames slowly climbed up Grillbyâs body as he became conscious to the world around him, his back felt like a million spikes had clawed their way through him. He took a swift intake of air as the pain surging from both his back, and head hit him all at once. The hell did he do last night? A quick look around told him he was at least in his room, the tufted leather headboard behind him told of a potential cause for the pain in his back. Through the leather he saw a few marks against the headboard, a few claw slashes here, and there. Brushing his hand through his fiery âhairâ, he took a moment to take in the morning musk around him. He saw a huddled mass to his right, through squinted eyes he made out something white but not exactly clear enough to see who or what it was. Softly flailing his hand to the night stand, he located his glasses. Bringing them close to slip them on, he took a moment to blink before turning to the mass again. Oh my Asgore, there was no way in the underground this was happening right now. If Sans was playing a prank on him this was the most hilarious, yet horrifying one yet. Â
Times like these he wished he had a camera with him always, because the blackmail, and leverage he could have with this type of dirt was just unprecedented. Hell he was in a great mood right now, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping mass he couldnât help but smirk. Scooting off the bed as slowly as possible to keep from waking up his guest, Grillby moved to slip on his pants then paused as..these werenât his? Oh! yeah no, he did forget the other wore stuff like this. Without another moment of fooling around, Grillby approached his dresser where he tugged out a pair of black shorts, nothing revealing or too saucy about them - just average black shorts. With the time saved by slipping on the pair of shorts, Grillby made his way to the bathroom to quickly wake himself up before heading into the kitchen. With the mood he was in it felt like a cooking day. To most Grillby was an okay cook, often burnt meals, and so on. To that he wouldnât even respond as it wasnât worth his time, why even cook for monsters who werenât worth the effort. This however was a special occasion, his guest was something to celebrate over, though memory of last night would be great too.
Well it didnât matter, heâd already grabbed the skillet so his attention promptly switched over to focusing on the meal he was preparing for himself, and his guest of course.
