I was originally planning on having this chapter up by June... Then July... Then it got pushed back even further because care work is immeasurably busy and personal life always seems to rear it's shiny head during the busiest of times.
Anyway, Feferi's finally here, I'm so excited!
The worlds a difficult place right now, I really hope that you're all well.
-.-.-.-.-
When Eridan had bumped into Sollux at the beginning of the week, he had assumed that that was going to be the worst event he would have to put up with for at least a little while.
He had been wrong.
Eridan had returned to the library the following day, after a morning shift at work, and Sollux hadn't even crossed his mind until he had perused the shelves upon shelves of fiction books, and had found that the odd one was out of place, but as he ventured deeper into the aisle, Eridan had found that every other book had been at the very least swapped onto the shelf opposite.
With a complete and disorganised panic, Eridan had taken it upon himself to return them to their order, and after he must have been doing so for roughly an hour, he had turned and had nearly ripped the copy of The Iliad he had been holding in half when he'd heard a snicker, and had caught the incorrigible cur himself watching him from the nearby seating area.
How long Sollux had been watching him was uncertain, but Eridan could not shake the feeling that it had likely been the whole time. He would have pulled Sollux's arms from his shoulders and beaten him about the head with them, but the nerd had escaped out the doors wearing a shit-eating grin before he could even put A Storm of Swords down.
After reorganising the shelves, Eridan hadn't had any energy or motivation for anything else, so had given up, and had gone home to wallow in self-pity and Vienetta, while having to repeat to himself that this was just a one-off, and surely never to be repeated.
He had been wrong about that too.
Sollux had even had the audacity to infect his dreams with his wretched touch; Eridan couldn't let himself dwell too much on that though, not when he was waking up with his heart hammering and an ache that would only be relieved with a very cold shower.
The denial wasn't working as well as Eridan had hoped though. He still found himself haunted by glimpses of dreams that seemed to hang around his mind demanding further recollection, but he only lingered on them for a moment out of morbid curiosity.
And no other reason.
None at all.
Eridan was so distracted by his internal conflict that he almost didn't hear the front door open, but the familiar cooing perked him up, and he was smiling before he knew it.
"Erifin!" The voice blasted up the hallway like a bullhorn, "wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!"
Feferi burst into the kitchen, a mountain of personality crammed into a gorgeous and fat five foot package, with hair so big it could only be full of the most secretive of secrets. She was wearing a thick warm coat, but Eridan knew that underneath it, she was wearing a light blue uniform for work that complimented her dark brown skin beautifully.
She looked pleased to see him stood at the counter, already prepping a lunch, but her smile faltered, "oh no, what's wrong?"
His step-sister could always tell when something was bothering him with just a look, and today was no different; it was like Feferi could smell a nearby bad mood of his like a great white sniffing out blood in the water.
Eridan's lip pulled up in a wobbly line, "oh Fef, I've been absolutely miserable! Imagine the worst most awful thing that could ever happen, an' then times it by eleven, an' then wait for a clown car to start up a defecation conveyor belt, an' then maybe that'd be half the horror I've been dealin' with!"
For a moment she looked worried, but then the scepticism took hold, and she put her hands on her full hips, "wait, is this like the time you thought TIGI changed their shampoo recipe, and you cried for two days solid?"
"I didn't think they changed it, they absolutely did, an' my hair looked like a cheap Halloween wig for the whole month I had to use it!" Offended by the fact that his dear sister seemed to have forgotten how traumatic that event was, Eridan smoothed down the front of his cardigan, and sighed, "but no, it's even worse than that."
Feferi looked half-concerned as she climbed onto one of the tall stools at the breakfast-nook built into the counter her brother was stood at, "your dad?"
"For once, no." Eridan said, shutting the lunchbox lid a little harder than he meant to, "I saw him, Fef, the devil himself!"
"Grampora?"
"God, no," Eridan shuddered at the memory of his grandfather, "Sollux. Sollux captor."
"Oh!" Feferi beamed suddenly, the absolute opposite reaction that Eridan had been hoping for, "Reely? I haven't seen him in ages! How is he?"
Spluttering and choking on the disbelief at the outright positive reaction he had gotten, Eridan huffed, "he's a pain in my fuckin' ass is what he is!"
"Is he still with Aradia? I'm sure I heard they were still together the last time I saw Karkat, but that had to be a couple years ago."
"Don't know, don't care, an' certainly won't be askin'." Eridan folded his arms, and turned away, not wanting her judgemental eyes on him, not when it came to Sollux; the two of them had their own history that meant that his sister still had some kind of ridiculous soft spot for the damnable bastard, "but he's been makin' my life hell."
"Erifin, you saw him once, you can't pretend like he's ruining your life."
Eridan slammed his hands down on the counter, and felt a ripple of anger roll through him, "it wasn't just once, though!" He wanted to flip his entire kitchen, "he's startin' to make a habit out a' comin' to the library just to mess with me!"
His sister rolled her eyes, "Oh I'm sure it's just a coincidence!"
"What kind a' coincidence rearranges a whole damn section a' books?" Eridan asked as he handed his sister a fuchsia lunchbox, "an' I know for a fact that he's goin' to keep turnin' up until one of us is dead!"
Feferi perked up, and peered through the plastic hopefully, immediately deflated she said, "oh, sandwiches again." She pushed out her bottom lip in a pout, "when are you going to start making exciting stuff again?"
"If you want somethin' go ask your chef to make it, you don't need any a' my mediocre offerin's."
"But it's not the same!" She whined, putting the box into her bag, and flashing him the biggest puppy-dog eyes, "nobody else makes it with love like you do."
"Next time I cook it'll be with cyanide, an' I'll be forcin' that nerd to eat every scrap." Eridan spat bitterly, though he immediately regretted his words when he was met with somehow even worse puppy-eyes.
"So you'll cook for Sollux, but naut me? I can-knot bereef how shellfish you are, and after everyfin I've done for you!" Feferi splayed her top half across the counter, spouting fish puns as she let her brother pick the scraps of lettuce out of her hair, "just say it, you don't love me anemone-more!"
Eridan diligently cleaned around her, and moved her impossibly bouncy curls away from the chopping board, "I just made you your favourite sandwich, an' now I'm bein' accused a' not bein' the most lovin' person in the entire northern hemisphere? That's some kind a' poppycock right there, an' I won't stand for it, I'm goin' to find a new wife for Father with a daughter who actually appreciates my—"
"So really, how is Sollux now?" Feferi asked, interrupting a possible monologue, "did he get hotter?"
The spluttering returned, and Eridan wasn't naïve enough to believe he was anything but the deepest shade of red right now, "w-what do you mean hot? He was never hot," he lied as his dreams tugged at the edge of his attention, breathless and enshrouded in the delicious pull of carnal delights, "if you're askin' if he still looks like a scrawny little nerd who could get his ass kicked six ways to Sunday by yours fuckin' truly, then yes, absolutely, but he's definitely not 'hot', I don't even know where you get off askin' a question like that when you know that his face makes me want to void the contents a' my stomach."
"Taking that as confirmation that he is," Feferi blew past Eridan's rant once again like it was a paper bag in the wind, "you know, if you stopped being an asshole, you could probably convince him to be fronds!"
"Don't even joke about that, Feferi, I don't want you puttin' those kinds a' vibes into the world!"
"Oh no, full name, I'm in trouble." Feferi mocked, before sitting up with a sweep of hair, "Look, all I'm saying is that maybe you could give him a chance, and maybe if the two of you stopped spitting at each other, you might find out that you're more similar than you think!"
"That was one time, an' he spat at me first." Eridan narrowed his eyes, and folded his arms, cementing his internal resolve to never give the ignorant nerd even the slightest of chances, "I'm goin' to get him out a' my library one way or another, an' if that's got to be in a bodybag, so be it. I swear, no jury would convict me, not when he's bein' such a dick."
Rolling her eyes, Feferi picked her bag up, and slung it over a shoulder, "speaking of which, do you want a lift to the library? I'm guessing that's your plan for the day?"
Eridan considered it for a moment, "I was actually thinkin' a' just stayin' in today," he paused, and imagined how his day would go, most likely he'd just spend it feeling tortured about how unfair his predicament was, especially with the addition of a certain scoundrel who might take his absence as a victory, "but I can't let him win, Fef, if he's there today, I'm not goin' to be the one who leaves this time!"
"Or, now hear me out, you could be nice," she ignored her brother's bark of laughter, and lead the way to the door, not giving him enough time to change his mind, "who knows what could happen if you tried being nice to him."
"You think it's my fault?" Eridan called after her, stopping only briefly to check his hair and clothing in the mirror before popping his contacts in, and putting his coat and scarf on; it was a good thing that even when he was planning on staying in, he still insisted on making himself pretty presentable, and so he only needed to grab his phone, and pop his keys in the messenger bag by the door, confident that there would definitely be at least a notebook and pen inside from his little excursion the day before.
"Oh, dolphinately."
The drive was quick, it usually was, and the car barely had time to warm up before they were already in town; Eridan had kept his gloved fingers crossed the entire way to the library, hoping beyond hope that today would be the day that Sollux would be too busy to come in.
He exchanged a wordless nod with Aranea as he strolled into the building and past the desk, and was quietly pleased when he didn't happen upon a certain nerd while poking his nose into the various nooks and crannies between the shelves. With a hesitant relief, Eridan smiled, and finally relaxed into choosing himself a book; his fingers trailed down the spines of so many that he passed, their letterings and names so familiar to his touch.
Finally settling on a dog-eared copy of The Hobbit, the hipster made his way over to an old, battered armchair. His favourite armchair. It was a tall, and wing-backed, and was made of a polished dark brown wood, that was carved with love in every curve, and enrobed in a rich deep blue leather. Eridan could remember being five when he had first been brought to the library, and he had insisted on waiting for the old lady that had been perched on it to leave because he only wanted to sit on that chair with his little pile of books.
With the rose-tinted glasses of youth, he had thought that it looked like the most well-loved chair in the whole wide world.
The worn blue leather was still soft and plush after all those years, and as Eridan stroked his hands over the fabric, he sighed, finally feeling at peace for the first time that day.
The sound of the doors opening only a few minutes later was the first thing to grate on Eridan's nerves; he had barely gotten himself immersed yet, and grit his teeth as the plodding footsteps echoed inside the building, and inside his head. After about five minutes of incessant shuffling, they began to approach, and Eridan gripped his book in annoyance, while suppressing the urge to deliver a most severe shushing.
Unable to resist the pull, Eridan glanced over his shoulder towards the shelves, and saw him.
Sollux.
Again.
The nerd had had the gall, the nerve, the audacity to show up, and despite Eridan trying to use the look of utter disgust on his face to dissuade him from coming any closer, Sollux sauntered over and flopped into the chair opposite his own.
"What you reading?" He asked, as though his very presence wasn't a blight on the hipster's day.
"That is none a' your damn business, an' I'll thank you to leave me alone." Eridan whispered as scathingly as he could, eyeing the other up and down accusingly, "you gave your word you'd never come back, you said you'd go, you promised, an' this is twice you've been back in as many days."
Sollux drew back as though offended, a hand clutching the front of his own shirt, "I did leave." He said.
Eridan's nostrils flared, "not permanently, otherwise I wouldn't now be wastin' what little time I have lookin' at you."
This did not have the desired effect, Sollux simply reached over the long table separating them, practically lying on top of it, and lifted the book in Eridan's grip enough to read the cover, "you still read fairytales?"
It was more of a statement than a question, and Eridan felt the glimmer of spite smoulder in his chest; the nerd was trying to get a rise out of him, that was all this was, some kind of long-term vengeance bred from a lifetime of hatred, "The Hobbit is not a fairytale."
"Yes it is?"
Eridan frowned, he had chosen the wrong thing to indignantly defend, and glared at the nerd as he grinned wickedly back at him, "what do you want, Captor?" He couldn't help but puff up his chest, trying to mask his annoyance with a now wobbly self-confidence, "don't you have anythin' better to do than continue to stalk me an' make my life absolute hell?"
"No." Sollux had begun testing all of the chairs around the low coffee table by flopping onto them, and scootching this way and that, trying to find the most comfortable. He barely registered Eridan's existence until he finally decided that apparently the only chair worth sitting on was the first one he had sat in.
And of course he did. This was decidedly the worst seat, as it allowed him to stare at Eridan, and the hipster just knew that the other was pulling faces at him every time he so much as glanced down at his book. He could tell.
When Eridan peeked up, he was surprised that the other looked as though he was actually being on his best behaviour, albeit on his phone, but that wasn't so bad.
With Sollux finally being quiet and unassuming, Eridan heard his sister's question repeat itself, a soft whisper of a memory as he drank in the sight of the other man.
Did he get hotter?
Honestly, there was little allure in the hoodie and jeans that Sollux had apparently decided to dress himself in, but he was tall and slender, and so casually handsome, with lips made for cheeky smiles. The eyes behind the glasses were the true prize, though, as beautiful as the sightings of them were rare, and Eridan cursed the dark lenses for refusing to share even a glimpse of them.
Eridan felt something inside his head snap when Sollux brought the phone up to his ear, and could barely believe the audacity of it all when he heard him say, "sup, KK." The sting of hearing the nickname of an old friend was impossible to deny, it had been so long ago when they had parted ways, and knowing that he and Sollux were still chummy made some emerald green jealousy bubble up through his chest. Pushing that down to deal with another time, Eridan shot a look over to the front desk to look for his cavalry, the keeper of the library, the lady in charge of it all, and saw it was empty.
Aranea had apparently deemed it necessary to leave her post, despite the presence of an untrustworthy ruffian in their midst.
"Your word's worth shit," Eridan hissed across the table.
Sollux didn't seem bothered in the slightest, and he held up a hand dismissively as he continued his conversation, "you haven't left for work yet, have you?"
Bristling, Eridan tried to swallow the anger, and try to focus on his story; the Shire was calling his name, the hobbits, the dwarves, the adventure…
"Oh, fair enough… No, no, I'm at the library."
Ignore it.
"But you'll never guess who's here."
It's not worth it.
"No, it's Eridan, yeah, Ampora, he's here right now," the fact that Sollux had lowered his voice and turned away did nothing to mask his words, "he's sat here reading fairy tales, like that's not hilarious?"
The book in Eridan's grip was about to fold in on itself like an accordion.
Why couldn't it just be enough for Sollux to sit there quietly, why did he have to be the biggest shit heel that ever existed every time he opened his mouth?
It was hardly worth trying to enjoy the view, every time Eridan caught himself checking the other out, he was brought down to earth with the reminder that Sollux was, and always had been, an insufferable prick.
"I know, he's stinking out the place with his cheap perfume."
Eridan grit his teeth. It was very typical Captor material, and hadn't changed much since history class, but being an adult now didn't make it any less aggravating to listen to.
"Mm, his hair does still look like ass," Sollux lowered his voice, barely, as though trying to pretend to be inconspicuous, "hang on, I think he's trying to eavesdrop. Yeah, yeah, no I know, total prick."
As his cheeks burned with indignant rage, Eridan felt his mood darken; it wasn't enough for Sollux to darken his door himself, he had to bring Karkat in to help too. Apparently, those wounds were a little slower to heal than Eridan cared to admit, and he realised that there was no point in even trying to salvage his trip to Middle Earth.
"You know what, I'm not goin' to waste the rest a' my day listenin' to you talk shit about me as though I'm not even here." Eridan slammed his book closed and dropped it onto the table as he stood up, then tried his best to ignore the look Sollux was giving him while he got his bag on without messing up his hair.
After taking a breath to calm his voice, he glared down at the other, "I wish I could say that you've changed, but you are still the same obnoxious little boy you've always been, an' every time I see you, you're somehow worse. Honestly, I can't wait for you to get bored a' tryin' to make my life a livin' hell an' move onto the next person you curse your presence with."
Sollux simply grinned up at him, unfazed and unintimidated, "you think this is me making your life hell?" He leant forwards, elbows on his knees, phone still aloft, "this is all small-fry stuff, I've barely even started yet, I'm never going to get bored of this."
An internal implosion of what Eridan could only assume was pure unfiltered rage shook him to his very core, and for a moment that felt like a century, he didn't know what to say; the feeling that crept up his chest when he thought of the possibility of seeing Sollux somewhat frequently was a decadent vanilla-chocolate swirl of disgust and, well, something else.
Hoping that the other man would assume that he was refusing to dignify that with a response, Eridan didn't even bother picking his book up off the table before storming past the nerd, and leaving through the heavy wooden doors.
Once outside, Eridan heaved in a deep breath, yanked his thick scarf from his bag and rolled it into a ball, and then screamed into it.
It wasn't fair that so much of his time was being wasted by the nerd, not when he could feel the grains of time slipping through his fingers, not when the chains of his father's employment was the only light at the end of the rapidly-approaching tunnel.
It wasn't fair that he wasn't allowed to reciprocate in kind, to fan the flames of their bitter rivalry of times-past until it was encouraged into a swirling tempestuous inferno of hatred, that they could both let loose within.
Eridan bumped his forehead against the cold, wooden door, and groaned, frustrated.
It wasn't fair that all he could think about were the eyes behind the sunglasses.