[He closes his eye, having little else to be looking at with Emet-Selch beneath his gaze, and his room's a veritable eyesore. Even while his mood's light, he still thinks about Emet-Selch's despair contrasting against his want, and he starts to come up with some framework of an understanding, basic and disjointed as it is. He thinks about his loss, something Mettaton only has words to go off of. Imagination only goes so far in piecing together the history of a beloved people long lost. So long has gone by and he's still burdened by it... It runs deep.

He holds him a little tighter with his one arm, his fingers stroking through his hair. He said he tried to find worth in mortals, but was it the chaotic nature of humanity that he disapproved of? He called his people kind, but humanity can be, too. Simply the appearance of their souls, then? Maybe in Aefenglom he'll change his mind... Well, never mind that right now. He said he'd seek a compromise, but it's not something he wants to have weighing on his mind right now, even while it's pertinent to Emet-Selch's despair. Never mind that a compromise feels more impossible than finding some way to get a robot to feel pleasure. If it were a solution rather than a compromise, that would take some kind of divine, otherworldly intervention, at this rate...

Conversely, Mettaton views this as terribly affectionate. He hums at the feeling of his kiss, his ears pressing back far enough that he feels them flush against his head.]

Haha. You're right! But I'm eager for the result... It will take some grand, unorthodox method to find some workaround, Selchy-darling. I'm glad you realize that.

[new name... he kind of likes this one.

If Mettaton knew he were belittling his view on mortals as living and wonderful, he'd shove him off the bed.]