[Mettaton pinches a strand of Emet-Selch's hair in his fingers, thoughtful and with considerations that drift from the conversation, to somewhere more personal. Something to the tune yearning for the impossible; Mettaton has so much out there for him on the Surface yet, the bright beginnings of a career as a robotic star among humanity. It's only been but months there but he's eager and raring to go, with a storm of ideas to unleash and needing the right moment to take off.

If Emet-Selch returned home, though... He'd return to being dead, he knew. And even thinking about Emet-Selch's death—it reminds him that he'd killed him too. A whole list of Bondmates who had seen Emet-Selch to his death. Though he still can't help but feel wronged by it all somehow, he snorts, smile rueful as his clawed fingers squeeze her shoulder. Affectionately or for stability, it's hard to tell which.

And he sighs.]

I wish we had the luxury of choice too, darling. [If he had any choice... Mettaton bites his lip.] I'd take him home with me, if I could...

[He has family, friends, a career. He feels ever more trapped the more he thinks about it, so he... stops thinking about it resolutely.]

We never know when we'll be beckoned away. So... make it count. [He smiles at her—too brightly to be a hospital patient recently deceased.] Oooh, that's how humans live, isn't it?? Living every moment extraordinarily and extravagantly!! Ohh yesss!

[mettaton shut up you'll wake the sleeping ascian]