You're five years old when a grumpy kid and his father move into the house next door to yours. But, because he IS new, you go with your grandpa, uncle, and cousin John to the kid's house to with a casserole and about twenty billion cakes to welcome them into the neighbourhood.
His dad answers the door and invites you in for dinner. You and John waddle to where the kid is sitting at the coffee table and greet your new neighbour. He runs a hand through his thick red hair that seems to be even messier than John's (which is rather impressive) and grunts a greeting, saying his name is Karkat. You think that it's a fitting name for the grumpy little red head, so you tell him you like it.
He stares at you and asks you if you hit your head or something because apparently that is the stupidest thing he's ever heard. You look him dead in the eye and tell him he is a poop face because all you did was appreciate his really neato name! He huffs an apology and offers you and John crayons in a hushed whisper because the adults were watching you. You smile and take the bright green one as John takes the blue and you all draw a masterpiece together in blue and grey and green.
Soon enough you're being called for dinner and you grin at Karkat as you put the crayons down. You sit beside him during dinner and whisper silly stories to him and John. You think he even smiles at the one where you and John got stuck in the tube at the playground and Uncle Egg had to crawl in after you with his suit and tie.
All too soon it's time for you to go home. You give Karkat a hug, which seems to surprise him, and ask if he can play tomorrow. His father looks down at him as he looks up to meet the gaze, and you think think he might say no when his father gives a nod and you can see the redhead struggling not to grin. What a goofy kid.
You smile and wave, telling him that tomorrow you'll have grand adventures and that he better go to sleep so that he doesn't fall asleep in the middle of being chased by a lion (which has totally never happened to you before). Before the door shuts you can see him turn and almost drag his dad to the bathroom to help brush his teeth and you grin.
When he is tucking you in, your grandpa asks if you and John had a nice time with the new neighbours. You both nod vigorously and say that even though he looks kinda grumpy or angry, he's actually really nice!
You're seven years old and feeling like you're useless when he grabs hold of your hand. You blink through you're tears and see him blush a little bit. You ask him why and he replies that when he's sad, you hold his hand and it really helps make him feel better so he thought it would help you. He also says that those kids were dumb and he told them so. He almost releases you but you squeeze his hand and thank him.
You think to yourself, sitting on the ground under your new favourite tree, that maybe all those kids were wrong and that Karkat's right.
When you are eleven years old you think Karkat gets jealous. You have been spending a lot of time with Rose and Dave and John, but that doesn't mean you're ignoring him! He also has friends that aren't you, like Terezi and Kanaya!
But you don't want him feeling bad so you go and invite him for a sleepover campout in your backyard, just like you did when you were small(er). He agrees and brings his sleeping bag over and you watch movies and eat popcorn and tell spooky stories and it's wonderful. Except when it's not.
He looks down at his hands and asks if you are friends anymore and what he did to make you go away. You stare at him because he didn't do anything you thought everything was great. You verbalized this and he looks at you then back to his hands. He says that he heard you call Rose your best friend. And then you're hugging him and crying and you kiss his cheek because nonono Rose is your best girl friend but Karkat will always be your best best best friend because even though you argue about dumb stuff he's the only one that can keep up with your shouting and trains if thought and that can never ever be replaced.
He hugs you back and you stay like that for a while, his face burrows in the hair at the side of you neck and you lean your head against his. When you part, his pale skin is blotchy like he was crying but he smiles at you. You grin back and tell him that your friends should meet because you think Kanaya and Rose are soulmates or something and he agrees.
You don't realize until after he's left that you may have kissed him on the lips by accident.
You are fourteen years old when you get jealous. Karkat, when he talks to you, rambles on and in about Terezi. Fuck. You do not want to hear another word about fucking Terezi out of his mouth because you know about Terezi and her wonderful art and great sense of humour and how even though she's legally blind she's not clumsy at all and everything else because Karkat will not shut up about her.
And what are you? You are no artist, your jokes are pretty dumb, you are so clumsy you'd make the three stooges weep, and you never hear Karkat go on and on about you. You never say this though. You just smile and nod and listen carefully because why does he have to LIKE her? He never liked anyone before and now it seems like he wants to marry her and you can't take it. Because no matter what you try to tell yourself he's always been YOUR Karkat. But he isn't, really. So you don't say anything.
The worst part is you think she has a thing for someone else. You want to ask Dave because he's bros with her but decide against it. You aren't going to meddle.
So nothing happens to the feelings inside you but you push them down, and tell yourself you are only friends with Karkat Vantas and that's how it's always been and that's good.
You're fifteen when you admit to yourself (and Rose) that that's complete bullshit.
At sixteen you just really want to kiss him because he makes your stomach do cartwheels and your brain take a walk. You just want to kiss him because he needs to shut up because you are arguing about nothing and it should be illegal to be that cute when angry. But you don't. You think about how he would kiss you and smile into your hair and tell you sweet nothing's just to get you to smile when you lie alone in your room and wonder if he could ever love you back.
When you're eighteen you decide to tell him and accept rejection gracefully. He's sitting at a table at your graduation dance, watching your brother and his "best bro" slow dance. When you sit beside him he doesn't even look at you before saying that he is so fucking relieved that those two idiots finally got together because it was becoming painful to watch. You agree with him and look down at your hands. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself you look up and let all your feelings pour out in a hushed whisper and then he's staring at you like you're a grey alien with candy corn horns. You look down again. You can't take it. Of course he doesn't love you back. Because you are nerdy and like silly things and are about a foot shorter than him and your skin is too dark and doesn't match your eyes and your hair is dumb and you never have anything worthwhile to say and you are super clumsy and now you are fucking crying well shit. And he's still staring at you.
You stand up to leave because this is stupid and he grabs your wrist and stands to face you. You look away and try to tug away because you do not want to stare his pity in the face and now you've probably fucked up your friendship with your stupid feelings that just wouldn't go away even when you tried and you just want to curl up and cry a good, solid cry because that's your consolation prize for tonight.
You're still weakly tugging away from him when you feel him cup you face in his hands and slowly turns your face to look at him. His eyes are wide and questioning and he speaks so quietly that you can barely hear him ask if you mean it. You stare into his eyes. And then are suddenly you are so, incredibly pissed off that he would even ask such a stupid question given your reaction to him NOT SAYING ANYTHING so you snap at him and say no, and in the split second before you continue your little rant you see his face fall and pain fill his eyes but you keep going because fuck him screwing around with your emotions. You continue to say that that is why you are crying and that's why you've been fucking miserable since you were at least fourteen. Because you didn't fucking mean it and are only trying to embarrass yourself and you try to twist away from him but he holds you still and says that you are a fucking idiot and so is he because... You didn't get to find out why you were a fucking idiot because he smashes his mouth into yours before he finishes and you can't process anything.
His lips are chapped and move slowly against yours and your slow brain works overtime pumping out information for you to process. Karkat is kissing you. His lips are on your lips. Your lips have yet to respond to this. So has the rest of your body.
As soon as you realize this he starts pulling away and oh no that can't happen because you've waited to long to be able to do this to him and like hell you're going to let him slip away. So you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down and move your mouth sloppily against his before you allow him to pull back. He grins at you and your stomach does a flip because that grin is soully for you now and he knows you know. You press yourself into his chest and call him a fuckass for making you cry.
You are nineteen when you finally wake up in a bed that is not yours, in a house that is not yours, on top of a body that is not (physically) yours. You breathe in deeply and sigh. Perfectly content to twirl your hands in his thick red locks you drift back into sleep before he stirs. He blinks groggily at you then smiles before whispering that he loves you. You kiss his neck and tell him you love him too and you have never said anything more true in your life because you love him youlovehimyoulovehim. You've loved him since you were five years old and he was just as excited to play as you were and you can finally admit it now because he loves you too and his arms are around you and you can hear him murmuring in your ear and you aren't ever going to let him go.
You're twenty one and saying "I do" and it's the happiest moment of your life. When you kiss him it's as if you are alone in the crowded room and you can feel him smile against your lips and tell you that he loves you as he pulls away to drag you by the hand and dance down the isle with your friends. You wouldn't have had it any other way.
You're forty five and the last of your kids is moving out when you realize it's been forty years since you met him. You kiss him and tell him that you've never been happier.
You're forty six, your middle child is marrying their childhood friend and at the reception you realize that perhaps children do become their parents. Not that it is a bad thing at all. You lean into your husband and tell him you love him as he whispers that he loves you.
When you are sixty one you celebrate your fortieth anniversary. You can't believe how blessed you are.
When you are sixty five you meet your great grandchild and it's one of the most amazing experiences you have ever shared. You look at Karkat and he smiles at you as he reaches out to hold the newest member of your strange little family. You tell him that he's going soft in his old age to which he responds that it's just from spending too much time with you. Smiling, you lean your head on his shoulder and say that he's probably right.
You are ninety five and have known the great love of your life for an astounding ninety years and are watching your great-great-grandkids play in your backyard from the old fashioned porch swing that he insisted on getting when, for the first time, you tell him that you love him and he doesn't answer. You nudge him and tell him that he better say it back or you won't let him have dessert. He still doesn't answer, and you get only slightly worried and quite a bit sad we you see the small smile on his lips. You both knew that you wouldn't live forever, and you both knew one would go before the other.
Still, you nudge him again. By this time your great granddaughter is leaning over you and asking what's wrong but you can't answer. You realize you're crying and wipe away your tears with a trembling hand, long past the days of careful measurements and pouring required for your chosen career. You sob a little and hold her close as she hugs you.
You release the hand that was holding his and find a little note pressed to your palm. You carefully unfold it and read what he wrote to you. You smile and sigh. It was going to be hard without him.
You are one hundred and one, and it would be your eightieth anniversary. You are so, very tiered. You have lived a very long life and have had so much to be happy about. You are so very, very blessed by whatever deity looks out for girls that love science and fall for the boys that live next door. You have a large family and know that they'll remember you, not as you are now; fragile, tiered, and slow, but as you were when Karkat stood by your side; strong, fierce, and adventurous. You want them to remember you as the loving grandparents that you were, together.
So you are content to sit on the porch swing and watch your family mill about and think that the two of you did pretty well. Past the teenage drama, you were able to make a good life, surrounded by friends and family. You sigh and lean back, your old bones creaking with the swing as you let go of the last note he wrote you in his old quirk he never quite grew out of, and you think of the words and you can hear his voice, words soft and soothing while his voice still slightly scratchy.
"YOU KNOW, HARLEY, WE DIDNT DO TO BAD, YOU AND I. I CAN SAY WITH GREAT CERTAINTY THAT THE SMARTEST THING I EVER DID WAS LOVE YOU. AND THE LUCKIEST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME WAS YOU LOVING ME BACK. BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS, I'LL PROBABLY BE ARGUING WITH YOUR BROTHER AND HIS DUMB HUSBAND IN THE AFTERLIFE OR SOMETHING, BUT KNOW THAT ILL BE WAITING FOR YOU WHEN YOUR STUBBORN ASS FINALLY DECIDES TO KICK THE BUCKET. I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU."
When you open your eyes you see him grinning like a doofus in all his twenty-something glory and calling you a fuckass for making him wait so long. You swat his arm and tell him to shut up, six years wasn't that long at the same time you're pulling his head down and smashing your mouth against his smiling lips. And it's like neither of you ever went anywhere.
welp I hate this formatting. enjoy an early Jadekat week fill for the prompt "day 4: childhood"