Karkat rolled on to his back, staring at the ceiling.
He couldn't sleep.
The sound of rain pounded against his bedroom window, a slow melody that normally would help him right along to dream land.
Rainy nights were actully some of the only nights he ever fucking slept.
Not tonight, though.
Too many emotions ran though his mind, each with their own curse of memories and thoughts.
Guilt for one. After all, he had dumped hot coffee on a hipster kid who (other than not minding his own fucking buisness) hadn't done anything wrong.
On the other hand, the idiot could have ignored him, let him hurry to the bathroom to take off and clean his sweat shirt before it was too late.
He had cost him his last clean hoodie.
It was all band tees now. And in this weather? That was gonna be hell.
Besides, he was fairly certain the fucker had a milion "ironic" sweaters.
Wasn't his fault the hipster got what was coming to him.
Also wasn't his fault that Karkat had spilled his own coffee down his own hoodie.
"HEEEEEEEEEERGH"
The cancer grabbed his pillow to his face and growled, rolling onto his side.
He'd never win this battle against himself.
Best to just sleep the feels off.
Grumbling, he got out of bed, rubbing at his eyes and headed towards his small kitchen.
His apartment wasn't much, but it was fine for him. He was lucky enough that his crabby father was paying for his rent, just to keep his own kid out of his house. That was luck to Karkat, anyway.
Reaching the kitchen, he turned on the light and pulled open the drawer under the microwave. A small container of sleeping pills rolled towards him and he picked it up, emptying two into his hand.
God how he hated taking these little shits. All they did was knock him out for twenty hours, so when he finally did wake up, he was left with an aching body and ten minutes to get to class.
But sometimes it was worth it not to think so much.
He grabbed a plastic cup from one of the many cupboards (for a small apartment, he sure had a fuckton of cupboards) and filled it with water at the sink. Taking a drink, he swallowed the two pills and threw the cup in the sink, turning out the light and heading back to his bedroom.
He lay down, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest, trying not to sob. It was pathetic how weak he was. He tried to act tough, but it was all just word vomit. In reality, he was nothing but an insomniac, paid to stay away from his family and attending college only because it gave his life some sort of meaning.
His vision began to blur and he closed his eyes, trying to shoo away any thoughts of the hipster kid. But the blond kept popping back into his mind. His Southern drawl and his gauges. His oversized, now ruined, sweater. And his light hair, that almost seemed to lay like feathers in the way it was cut and thinned. And his grin. God, his grin.
"Service with a smile."
The words came back to Karkat and he frowned, falling into dark dreams.