"Really, what makes you still try to like me; help me? Even when you could be so much better off without me here to burden you?.."
You're his friend from when he decided college was a good idea and ended up rooming with you. It's been years after that- and years after the barrier broke. This is meant for you to fluff him after the angst- but I left it open-ended (mostly).

⚠-⚠Warning⚠-⚠: Disformed Facial Feature and Large Perpetually Bleeding Gash- Also, ⚠!-!⚠!-!⚠SELF-HARM ALERT!⚠!-!⚠!-!⚠

Art: http://f4d1ng-4w4y.deviantart.com/art/Geno-Sans-680269000
Aftertale: https://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/ATfancomic
Undertale by Toby Fox.
Precious by Depeche Mode (Go listen to it yourself lol Depeche Mode's songs aren't playable on third-parties)

This is my second request ever- also, sorry to you, requester! I haven't checked my requests form in awhile now, and I don't know how long that request has been there for! If you'd like me to credit you, comment your name! If not, I can just leave you as Lovely Dear Anon~
Needless to say, I will be checking that more oftenly now!
Requests: https://forms.gle/Bek8CG2fiKDQpAaw8

! ! ! Intro (Spoiler Alert) ! ! !
*You grab another cardboard box, easily lifting the light weight of it. Probably his collection of feathers; he'd always loved birds, for some reason. You liked that about him. You liked that he be passionate about anything he wanted to be passionate about, and almost never give up on it.*
*You put down the box on the carpeted living room's floor, next to the pretty nice coffee table, made of mahogany and passed down generations and generations of humans- all the way down to you. You watch for a second as Geno walks in with another box, carefully holding it. It had a fragile sticker on the top corner of it, so it was probably all of his glasses and plates and bowls.*
*You watch as he sighs, gently putting the box down before looking to you. His melted eye twitched, as if "muscle" memory were trying to make it look at you, even though it was completely demolished and caved in. His facial expression seem solemn- sad, even, as his arms drooped and his posture slouched the tiniest subtle bit.*
*You could see the frost, a thin sheet of ice, on his nasal ridge, causing his breath to mist against the lukewarm air of your house as he sighed longer, deeper. He looked like he'd been holding back on something for a long, long while.*
"____, really, be honest- what makes you still try to like me; help me? Even when you could be so much better off without me here to burden you?.." *He asks, voice clearly refraining from cracking into a sob as it strains to a slightly higher vocal than usual.*
*You look at him. His eyelid droops as his eyelight looks towards the floor.*
"I can't even take care of myself. Why do you keep trying to do that for me?" *He slowly brings his arms out in front of them to hold them between you and himself, palms up, fingers curled tightly into his metacarpals.*
*You lift his sleeve and he flinches roughly, wincing. You force him to hold his arm in place while you look at it.*
*Cuts. Far more than you can count, most layered over layers and layers of old and some new cuts. All over his arm, from his wrist all the way to the inner side of his humorous. Your finger brushes over a particular new and thickly layered cut, which is just starting to scab. You hear his breath hiss, even as he tries to hide it from you.*
*Your hand slowly, gently lifts up to his rounded skull, cupping his mandible as your fingers hook on the inside, just as he had always liked. Your fingers instinctively start rubbing soothing, gentle scratches into the inside of his mandible as he imperceptibly leans into your hand, eyelid shifting ever so slightly lower as his body seems to go limp and heavy.*
*You hesitate for a moment before releasing his arm and sleeve to wrap your own arm around his back, hugging him loosely for now as your nose finds its way to his shoulder. Your clothes get soaked with the blood of his perpetual gash, but that doesn't matter right now.*