"Ugh!" I groan rolling over. Why is it so hard to decide how to tell somebody that you like them? I mean is it this hard to tell somebody that you hate them? I stare up at my darkened ceiling thinking about him. He has been my best friend since I can remember and was there for me even after my father was killed.
I hear my brother stumble in downstairs and flinch slightly. Before our father died he used to be so annoying and talked so much, but now he just drinks. He stomps clumsily up the stairs and into his room, I can hear the slurred lectures from here. I don't want to hear this, I don't want to listen to what a wreck our lives have become, so I decide that I am not going to.
I stand and go over to my window and look out. I'm on the second floor and our yard consists of little more than hard dirt. I sigh, it's not like I haven't done this a thousand times. I open the window slowly, savoring the strong, cold wind that blows through it. I push lightly on the screen, popping it out on the darkened yard below. Gripping the window sill, I jump. For a second it feels like I am weightless, like I could just fly away. Then I hit the ground. I have done this enough times to know how to land then roll to avoid any damage.
The surrounding darkness conceals all of my movements as I walk to his house. Even though it's so late at night, I know that he will be awake. He always had insomnia. I Smile slightly as I think of all of the times that we have talked late into the night because neither of us could sleep. Not much time passes before I am walking up the black driveway to the still house. I walk around to the back of the house and climb a small tree onto his roof. We used to climb this tree everyday in the summer to pass the time.
Looking over at his dark window I can see him moving around silently. His knot of hair on his head that he gave up trying to take care of long ago. The face paint that somehow always stayed on his face. His baggy clothes and lazy smile. He has purple eyes that seem to glow with life even when everything else seems to be falling apart.
Knocking lightly on his window, I push it open and crawl through. He looks at me and smiles. I'm really glad that the dark hides the blush that covers my face.
"Karbro," he whispers, "what's up?" Crossing his arms in a relaxed way, he leans back in his computer chair. I move and lay down on his unoccupied bed. I take in the scent of stale marijuana and that awful soda, Faygo.
"Kankri's drunk again," I mumble, not really wanting to talk or think about it. Before our dad died he would lecture about this kind of thing, saying how bad it was. Now all he lectures about is anything that his drunken mind can think of. I prefer not to listen to that. Gamzee shifts in his chair and sits up more then sighs and slouches down. I can tell he want to help but doesn't know how.
"Hey, Gamzee?" I ask after a slight pause. He looks up at me.
"What's motherfuckin' up, bro?" he says quietly. I think for a second about how I want to say this.
"I wanted to fucking know," I say slowly, testing each word, "do you like anybody?" He looks at me curiously.
"I guess I kind of like this one person," he responds still looking at me curiously. "Why do you all up and motherfuckin' ask?"
I shrug, "No reason." He does like somebody. I stare up at his ceiling and it's spots of colors. We repainted his whole room in just multi-colored splatters when we were younger. It was his idea.
"Come on," he says, "tell a motherfucker why you wanted to know."
"Just curious," I say, although I can tell that he knows that that wasn't the entire story. He looks like he won't let it go but he shrugs it off when he sees that I will never tell him.
"Do you all up and motherfuckin' like somebody, motherfucker?" he asks changing the subject only slightly.
"Yes," I say before I can think. My face turns a color probably close to scarlet. "I mean fuck," I say too quickly, "No. Maybe…" I trail off.
"And what motherfucker would that be?" He asks, interested.
"N-nobody," I stutter blushing brightly. Why was I being such a bumbling moron!? He leans forward slightly, a playful smirk playing on his lips.
"You such a bad motherfuckin' liar, Karbro," he says through the smirk.
"Fuck off," I mumble, mentally killing every fucking brain cell that I have for being such an idiot.
"Who is it?" he asks in almost a sing song voice. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it staring at me. The red end is the only light in the entire room other than a sliver of moonlight. Gamzee continues to stare me down for what seems like hours. Finally, I cave.
"I'll tell you who the fuck it is," I mutter. He perks up at this, his black silhouette leaning forward so I can see his perfectly painted face. I just want to lean forward and kiss him. "It's you," I mumble quietly. At first I thought he hadn't heard me because he just sat there. Then he sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms. The silence seemed to crush every bone in my body and made it impossible to breath.
"Kar," he starts. I shake my head.
"Don't," I say, "I was stupid. I'm sorry. I should go." I stand up and make my way to the window to leave. I am stopped when a large, rough hand clamps onto my wrist and spins me around.
The next thing I know, Gamzee has his lips pressed against mine. They are slightly chapped but soft. I melt into the kiss, standing on my toes so that he isn't bent down so much. Gamzee pulls away much sooner than I would have liked and looks into my eyes with his beautiful indigo ones.
"I motherfuckin' like you too," he whispers then encircles my waist in his arms, lifting me off the ground.
"Put me the fuck down!" I whisper loudly even though I'm smiling. He sets me down on his bed and sits next to me. I snuggle into his side breathing in his scent. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head.
The next morning I wake up still snuggling close to Gamzee. I can tell he didn't sleep, but he still looks incredibly happy. He is playing with my hair smiling to himself.
"Gamzee," I say quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence.
"Hmm?" he responds opening his eyes to smile down at me.
"I love you," I whisper. He tilts my head up gently with two long fingers and places a gentle kiss on my lips.
"I love you too," he whispers back. I lean back up and kiss him. For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to be happy. Because for the first time in a long time, there is reason to be happy.