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"How long has it been again?"
"15 years, hon."
I nod. It was hard for me to keep track of time. Centuries worth of time loops does that to a person.
Light pours in from the open apartment window as I sit on the edge of our bed. Frisk kneeled behind me, brushing the knots out of my hair that formed from the night. They wore their usual purple and pink sweater and jean shorts, while I had yet to be dressed, sitting in simply a tanktop and boxers, or "full-body hairnets" as we had come to refer to them.
I stared blankly out the window at the city below.
15 years.
Before the incident, I'd have seen it as a long time. But now it felt like just one year. I felt like time was flying by at a snail's pace. When I paid attention, it crawled. But I let my thoughts wander and hours flew by in what felt like a second. I felt like I was missing my entire life in front of me.
Or Frisk's.
I didn't think about it for very long. What mattered is they were here now, and they'd be here for at least a century if I had anything to say about it.
How short a time that felt like.
"Thanks."
"No problem. What do you want for breakfast?"
Frisk helped me keep pace. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here at this moment.
No, literally. In my perception of time, I would not have left that one day. It scared me to think about.
"I could go for some french toast, actually."
"Sure. I can make that happen. What are you thinking about?"
"The usual. The time loops. What's made up the vast majority of my existence."
Frisk nodded. "Sorry."
"No, no, don't be."
It's been a long recovery process over the past decade and a half. It'll still be a long way to go before I'm back to the way I used to be. But Frisk's companionship has made it worth it.
Frisk tapped my forehead to signal me to tilt my head up. I obeyed lazily as they moved the brush to my bangs to get them in order. Grooming was a common and effective bonding activity between us, which was good, because all of my fur was pretty high-maintenance. I didn't have the energy to shower, but we didn't plan on going anywhere that day anyways so it didn't matter very much.
"There we go, all done," Frisk said, with the sing-song voice of a hair stylist to a child.
"Thank you, love."
"No problem. Could you get some eggs and bread out? I'm gonna go shower." Frisk got up to leave the room.
"Yeah."
They smiled at me with radiance to rival the sun in the morning window before walking out the door.
Later that morning, after breakfast, I decided to lay back down in bed. I just outright lacked energy to face the day. I laid on my side, looking out the window. Frisk walked to the doorway and stood there.
"Hey. You feeling alright?" Their voice was soft and whispery, the way they got when they were concerned about me.
"Not really." I didn't bother rolling over to look at them.
Moments later, I felt them climb onto the bed next to me, and then a blanket pulled over my body. Frisk slowly rubbed my shoulder from over the blanket. I didn't realize I was holding tension in there until they did.
"Can I help?"
I nodded.
"How can I help?"
I did nothing. Frisk took the hint.
"Is it OK if I climb back in the blanket with you?"
I thought for a second, then nodded.
Frisk pulled the blanket over themself, reaching an arm around my chest. I sunk my head into my shoulders as they pulled me into a hug. They started rubbing my shoulders, and I relaxed them again. With their embrace, my eyes started to close again.
When they opened, the sun was higher in the sky, and Frisk had departed. In a start, I threw the blanket off of myself, and ran into the main area of the apartment. No walls dictated the difference between kitchen, dining area, and living room, they all just blended into each other.
"What time is it," I asked frantically. If I had slept into the afternoon again I would be really upset with myself.
"10:15. You were out for a further half hour."
I let out a heavy sigh. "Thank God."
"I went on a coffee run while you were out." Frisk pointed to the counter, where a pair of plastic cups with iced coffee sat in a tray. They were waiting for me to wake up to drink theirs.
"Oh, nice." I took the tray to the kitchen table, and took the cup with my name written on it in scrawled marker. The methods never change, I suppose, I thought to myself. The cups weren't that much different save for a butterscotch flavour shot in mine.
"Hey, Frisk."
They looked up from their drink to meet my eyes.
"Do you think... it'll get any easier?"
They smiled again, and chuckled. "I guarantee it. It did for me."
I smiled back. "I love you, Frisk."
"I love you too."