If this moment never ended, for once Frisk and Chara feel the same - they'd be okay with that. The other Frisk's clear and evident happiness seems to fill the room with warmth, that same pleased-apprehension.
Singing together. Chara remembers - peppermint winter, Frisk examining what is allowed to seep across of the memory with that same odd drunken lift. They lift their head up, coming to an internal agreement.
(Who says this isn't important, in it's own way?)
"I'll count us in," Chara says, which means, in tone and demeanour, of course. "Three, two, one..." They lift their hands like an orchestral conductor, and take a breath, and start.
"Happy birthday..."
Have you heard two people try to use the same set of vocal chords at once? The result is... interesting. There's an internal running back and forth - the audible equivalent of a three-legged race, although as the song continues some sort of equilibrium begins to be reached.
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Singing together. Chara remembers - peppermint winter, Frisk examining what is allowed to seep across of the memory with that same odd drunken lift. They lift their head up, coming to an internal agreement.
(Who says this isn't important, in it's own way?)
"I'll count us in," Chara says, which means, in tone and demeanour, of course. "Three, two, one..." They lift their hands like an orchestral conductor, and take a breath, and start.
"Happy birthday..."
Have you heard two people try to use the same set of vocal chords at once? The result is... interesting. There's an internal running back and forth - the audible equivalent of a three-legged race, although as the song continues some sort of equilibrium begins to be reached.