Chapter Text
He's seen this episode so many times. Normally, he would have thought once was enough. That he doesn't care much for this type of show, anyway.
But he doesn't know what 'normally' should have meant to him, and it's better than the emptiness when Error is gone, and it is not Blueberror's choice anyway. So he doesn't say anything, and quietly watches the Undernovela rerun without complaint.
By his side, his best friend knits aggressively. That sounds like it shouldn't be the right description, but it's what he's doing. The needles click loudly as he moves through the project like he's trying to speedrun it, except for when he constantly pulls the yarn too tight and gets it stuck.
Error hisses as he accidentally stabs through a single strand of yarn, then just keeps going as if the two split loops were always meant to be their own stitches. Blueberror looks back at the "TV," fidgeting with the slightly uneven, yet very soft, sleeve of his own sweater.
Better to avoid bothering him, Blueberror thinks. Hopefully Error will be able to relax soon. It would likely be bad news, if he isn't.
-
The show keeps going. It's been on for what must have been hours, though time rarely seems consistent. Blueberror wants to curl up and nap. Staring through the portal for so long makes his skull hurt. He doesn't want to hear about how he's "not paying attention," though.
He watches the characters argue, and doesn't really see them, trying to think of anything else. His thoughts start to blur together.
-
He wakes up to something being forcefully put on his head.
"H-here," Error grins at him, looking very pleased with himself. Blueberror blinks at him a few times, then reaches up to touch whatever has been placed on him.
It's the hat Error was making. He noticed earlier that the yarn was blue, and notices now that it's very soft and warm. He smiles back gratefully, taking the hat off to look at it.
Round, blue, with a little purple-ish star shape on top...? Oh. It's a blueberry. That's what Error used to call him, for some reason. Before his voice glitched out and he could no longer pronounce his own name any way but 'Blueberror.'
Error brought him some real blueberries, once, when he asked what a blueberry even was. They were very good-- one of the few foods to enter this place that weren't made of syrup or grease.
"Thank you," he says, putting it back on. "It's so cute!! I love it."
(And not really his choice to wear it or not, so he may as well accept it and appreciate the blueberry. He might not have chosen to wear one, but he really does love them.)
Error smiles, looking happy, if a bit smug. A lot smug, actually. It's good that he seems happy again.
"Of c-course it is," Error brags. Blueberror nods agreeably, reaching to touch the soft yarn again.
-
Error doesn't touch him often, but it's always nice when he does. It's always something small, like holding hands, like they're doing right now.
Blueberror is comfy, half-curled up in his beanbag, his chin resting on the edge of it and one arm reaching across to his friend.
Error keeps watching the show, but every so often looks back at him, at their hands, with an almost innocently delighted smile on his face. Like he can't quite believe that he's there with him.
It's so nice, to feel wanted. He's not always wanted, and it hurts, because there's nothing he can do to change, or to leave, or to find someone who might like him even a little bit more. It's just him, and Error, and sometimes the voices, but they never seem to want to be friends with him either.
The worst is when Error leaves, and Blueberror misses him so badly. When he can't help but care about his best friend, but Error can't even stand to be around him.
Right now, he is wanted, and Error squeezes his hand gently and smiles at him like nothing has ever been wrong.
So Blueberror smiles back, content, because these moments are the best. The best he's ever known, and the best he can hope for. He only wishes it could be like this more often.