(H-EY! Here's the next chapter! (#^w^#) It's just Sollux for now, but Eridan shall make a comeback! 3 )
Sollux checked the clock. Well, he pressed the little button on top that said the time out loud in a monotonous robot voice. It was one of those fancy contraptions designed to make life easier for the blind. "Twelve o' clock A.M." He groaned and pulled the bedsheets over his head, and then shoved them off and pressed the button again. "Twelve o' one A.M." "Why can't I fucking fall asleep?!" he asked the ceiling. It didn't answer.
His eyelids felt like lead, but the rest of him refused to follow their example. He began to think about Eridan. He wondered about what he looked like, and his mind began to form a picture, bit by bit. His new friend had blonde hair, brown freckles, pale skin, and deep blue eyes. Tall, lanky, and awkward. He probably wore some geeky t-shirt, Linkin Park or Doctor Who. And all the colors, so many colors on one young man…
Tears began to collect in the corners of Sollux's eyes, and his throat tightened. Oh, hell fucking no, he was not going to cry. Nevertheless, he rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. Here he was, sobbing into his sheets. What a moron.
He flopped back over and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up shakily, he made his way towards the bathroom, tripping over his own feet. He reached for the handle of his medicine cabinet and pulled it open. The plastic bottles of pills were cold against his hand as he rummaged through the cabinet. Wrapping his hand around a random container, he pulled it out. He didn't know what they were and didn't care.
Back in the bedroom, Sollux twisted open the bottles and tipped it into his hand. A few capsules spilled out into his palm. He considered them for a second and dropped them onto the mattress, pushing them around with one finger. Thoughts were racing through his mind at a mile a minute, and his throat was dry. He dried his face with his sleeve, clearing the tears. He'd never been a "graceful" crier. The thought made him smile, but the expression quickly faded.
He took one of the pills and placed it on his tongue. It tasted slightly sweet and a bit…dusty, for lack of a better word. However, most of all, it tasted like fear. He quickly spat it into his hand. Setting the bottle on his nightstand, he swept the rest of the pills onto the floor, listening as they skittered across it. I can't die today, he thought, wrapping himself in his sheets. I've got a friend to listen to Sherlock Holmes with, and I shouldn't let him down, can I?
(Man, I got depressed writing this. Poor Sollux. I don't know if I'll get the next chapter done by tomorrow, but I will soon!)