[Frisk's wrist clenches, and Lutha's grip on their arm tightens hard in response, the trembling of his hand rattling the child in front of him as he fights not to shake their arm straight out of its socket.]

I know you fucking asked me to-- why the fuck do you think I'm fucking telling you this?? [His grip shoves, jostling Frisk with every push of his voice, as though he's trying to physically force the words into them somehow.

He struggles for breath for a few seconds, his fingers working against Frisk's sleeve.]

If it changes. If. Do you fucking--- understand that? [That he's now obligated not to let the child out of his sight? That for now, he's trusting that they're not going to murder him?] That "if" might happen in ten seconds or never at all, and I don't care which it ends up being right now, because I fucking made a promise and I'm not fucking letting some kid like you do something you regret.

But only if you're going to fucking hurt someone. Not until then.

[He swallows again, dry, his voice cracking.]

Do you understand, Frisk?