Author's Note: Sorry for the long breaks recently, guys! Finals are coming up and shit's going down. Please give me ideas for more gifts for Dave to give John, and also maybe a one-shot idea for me to pursue after or during this. As always, thanks! 3
It's been exactly a week since you began this ridiculous charade, and you're starting to regret it deeply. John avoids you at school, opting instead to hang out with Jade and Rose and, most painfully, Vriska. It's as if he knows exactly how to best plunge a myriad of splinters into your heart. Like he just walks around with a quiver of arrows strapped to his back and pulls back the string of his bow every time he passes you wordlessly in the hallway.
"Hm, how should I maim Dave today?" he laughs manically as he draws an arrow in your mind's eye. "Ah, ignoring him, yes, good!" Zing! "Let's see…spending an inordinate amount of time with Vriska!" Zing!
You're about sick of it.
You seriously consider giving up. Like, whoever can resist a messy-haired Dave Strider in dark red skinny jeans trying to woo them from their front porch must mean business. But another part of you hopes it's only a matter of time, so you persist.
After the final bell rings, you spot John packing up at his locker. He makes eye contact with you for approximately .5 seconds before slamming the metal door shut and disappearing into the crowd. Zing! You cringe, and then sigh audibly as Rose approaches you from behind.
"You know, Dave, maybe you should just –" she begins as you wheel around.
"I know!" you practically shout over the after-school din. "I know. You think I don't?" Turning back around after a reflective pause, you catch a final glimpse of dark hair, just before it vanishes around the corner. You watch the students milling around for a bit, and by the time you look back for Rose, she and Kanaya are already heading down the hall in the other direction. Letting out another long puff of air, you retrieve your things from your locker, and prepare for the endless bike ride home.
Today, a small, blue smuppet waits patiently on your bed. Dumping your backpack on the carpet, you snatch it up and trek begrudgingly back out the front door. Mounting your bike and fitting your cargo carefully into the bag dangling from your handlebars, you take off.
Arriving at John's house has become a chore. The second you get off of your bike, the door opens, with an irate Egbert standing in the threshold. Before you even step foot on the front porch, he's yelling. "I thought I told you to stop it!" he complains loudly.
Eyes downcast, you thrust the puppet into his reluctant hands and turn tail muttering, "I love you, John Egbert," pointlessly under your breath. As if he could hear you. As if he would want to, even if he could.