If Mettaton looks concerned when he glances back at Keats, he's not going to admit it. The survivors are still chatting in his ears, one of them in the middle of grasping his "attacked" arm to check it for injuries, and don't seem to notice any commotion from the back of the store. There... doesn't seem to be a commotion, just...
Keats. Standing against the wall. Like a grumpy deer caught in some very embarrassing headlights.
Mettaton smiles over at him, batting his eyelashes.]
What's that, sweetie? Do you need help? You only need to say the word.
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If Mettaton looks concerned when he glances back at Keats, he's not going to admit it. The survivors are still chatting in his ears, one of them in the middle of grasping his "attacked" arm to check it for injuries, and don't seem to notice any commotion from the back of the store. There... doesn't seem to be a commotion, just...
Keats. Standing against the wall. Like a grumpy deer caught in some very embarrassing headlights.
Mettaton smiles over at him, batting his eyelashes.]
What's that, sweetie? Do you need help? You only need to say the word.