It's Monday, and that can never be good. Mondays were never a particularly good day, whether it be the looming storm cloud bring ing an end to comfortable gold sun beams, or perhaps the ushering in of the daily grind, falling back into schedule.
Weekends are strange like that. Like you can do what you want, when you want, because you have the freedom to do so. Fridays would always be the best day, usually because Tavros' friend Dave hosted a sick party every other Friday. After all, they were seniors in high school now. They all weren't kids anymore, and certainly didn't do things kids would do.
It was Monday morning on a cloudy day in Washington. Mist and fog clung to the air creating the gloom and heaviness which was ever present. It was exactly 7:54 AM, six minutes before the late bell would ring for the first period.
Gamzee Makara was a nineteen year old senior. John was too. Dave was seventeen, and Tavros had just turned eighteen.
Everyone was growing up as time slipped by so fast, faster than John's father could a cake, faster than a bullet from an Englishman's gun piercing the heart of a fairy named Tink.
"When will I see you again?" Ah yes, the familiar ring of his voice cracker broke the stiff morning air. Tavros wasn't a morning person by any means.
Gamzee shrugged, arms covered by a purple,"Insane Clown Posse" hoodie he wore so often, the smell of his cologne mixing in with smoke. Gamzee was by no means, a morning person.
On this day the two had their first fight, a small bickering because Vriska had the nerve to show her voice once again on school grounds, at the two as poor Tav shook helplessly.
What would you expect? Surely not gaining the confidence to after confuse with a person as vile as she?
"Are you going to skip classes again?" Tavros added, his voice soft and quiet as his forehead rested against the others chest, his arms looping around his waist.
"Probably. Like I give a damn about my actual motherfuckin grades." He laughed a little as he said this, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and a lighter from the other, handing Tavros the lighter.
"Why are you giving me your lighter? I though you would need it." He asked, clutching it in his hand and looking up at him. Gamzee smiled half heartedly, chuckling dryly.
"I ain't gonna put a cancer stick in my mouth in risk of up and hurting your pretty little lungs." The ravenette replied, sticking an unlit cigarette behind his ear before slipping the rest back in his pocket. It didn't really make sense, seeming how no one would be able to see through the mess he called his hair, mostly curls and tangles from tossing and turning. He must have not brushed his hair before leaving the house that morning, or really done much. Gamzee was wearing what looked like pajama bottoms and a band Tee, nothing much out of the ordinary. He lifted a hand to truffle Tavros' hair, still smiling in a glassy eyed way.
He was so obviously stoned and depressed, but Tav didn't really know how to talk about it. Maybe comfort him? His gut began to tear itself from the inside, breath escaping him suddenly.
"Hey Tavbro you chill?"
"Yeah..." He spoke softly, going to wrap his arms around his waist as he buried his face further, not wanting to let go.
"Can I come with you?" He mumbled, Gamzee's own arms sliding behind his waist. And back up to tangle nimble fingers in his hair.
"No Tav you gotta go to class." He drawled, laying his chin down on Tavros' head. The bell rung, neither of them making a move. Realization hit him like a brick before he let go all together, face becoming red. Stumbling slightly on prosthetic limbs, Gamzee pulled him back to gently peck Tavros' lips, before both of them parted ways.
So maybe Monday's weren't that bad.