You pushed out a long breath, furrowing your brow and studying him. He was unaware of your presence and was toying with one of his stupid games. Fidu-whatsit. He seemed so happy, and you wondered how anybody could ever be so content.
"Hey."
He jumped. You bit back a grin at his nervousness, trying to not to appear threatening. Your relationship with him was bad enough as it was, and you didn't want to make him even more scared of you. Not right now, at least.
"Oh, uh, hi, Vriska."
His voice cracks as he greets you; he bites his lip at the harsh sound and avoids your piercing stare. You swallow and your mind goes blank as you struggle to think of what to say next.
"I'm sorry."
Your eyes shift away from him. You can't bear this. You never apologize. It's always someone else's fault. Always.
"O-okay."
You both fall into an uncomfortable silence.
"I hurt you. And I'm sorry. But I had a problem. I really did. I'm not blaming you or trying to be righteous. It was my entire fault, what happened. Everything. It was a mess. I was a mess. I know how you must feel, and I know why you're – you know – scared of me. But I just want you to think about how I feel, too. Because I'm not some machine that tries to hurt people. I'm a girl. I have feelings, too. Just – think about that. Okay? For me?"
He stares at you. Eventually, he nods. You heave a sigh, wanting to do something, anything, that wasn't standing awkwardly with a blank expression on your face. You want to move around, maybe force a smile, but you can't. You look at him for a full minute, grimacing, listening to the sound of your own breathing, your own heartbeat, and for a moment you swear you can hear his, too. The short, toned boy in front of you with the bull horns, the boy who could be menacing if he were a little taller and a lot meaner, you could look at this boy for hours.
But you don't.
You close your eyes instead, trying to force his image out of your mind, and lick your lips, turning on your heel.
"I'm sorry."
With that, you leave.