Okay, I have to warn you all, this chapter contains depressive behavior (i.e., people mentally beating themselves up). Just a trigger warning in case you don't like that kind of thing. Unfortunately, I know a bit too much about Sollux's headspace at this point and it's not a pleasant place to be.
I also didn't mean to berate you guys last chapter! It's just that I have 59 people following this story and only 34 reviews (total!) so it's like, where are the rest of these people?
Anyway, thanks to BlOo KiSsEs and crimsonkoteto for your lovely reviews to the last chapter!
As he usually did on Mondays and Wednesdays after his Creative Writing class, Sollux went to the library to work on what little homework he'd been assigned (his Coding instructor seldom left them with work he couldn't finish before he left class and Calculus was ridiculously easy, but Chemistry tended to be a bit of a pain in the ass) so he didn't have to worry about it when he got home. His Chemistry class was only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so he usually waited until the day before to do that homework anyway. He typically hid in one of the far corners, near the photography books and away from his fellow students, although sometimes he'd see Gamzee working away in another corner.
That kid always confused the holy Hell out of him. Some days, he was convinced Gamzee was an idiot, and other days, he was sure he was a certified genius. Sollux didn't see him often, but when he did, he usually had a stack of books surrounding him and ICP blaring out of his headphones. He had no idea how Gamzee was able to work with that noise in his head, but Sollux needed quiet, which was the whole point of coming to the library in the first place.
Although, he had to admit, if he had Karkat Vantas as a roommate, anything would be a relief.
He chuckled to himself and then immediately felt guilty. Their falling-out, if it could be called that, hadn't just been Karkat's fault. It took two people to let a friendship die. Sometimes he grew wistful for their inseparable middle-school and high-school days. Sure, the other boy yelled a lot and generally acted like an asshole, but he was loyal to his friends. He'd never done or said anything to intentionally hurt him—not if it was what he needed to hear. And, yeah, he'd needed to hear a lot of stuff he didn't necessarily want to ("FUCK JESUS, SOLLUX, YOU CANNOT GO TO SENIOR PROM IN JEANS!"), and Karkat had been the only one to tell him.
And now Gamzee was the one on the receiving end of Karkat's tough love, something he probably needed. Sollux had seen Gamzee in their first few months here, and he had been astonished to see how skinny the other boy had been. He thought he looked malnourished—compared to Gamzee, he looked chunky. He was only two inches taller than Gamzee, but at first, he probably had about twenty pounds on the guy. Now, at least, Gamzee looked to be at a healthy weight. Once, back when Sollux and Karkat had been on friendlier terms, he'd asked about Gamzee's home life. Karkat hadn't volunteered much. "He has a brother. I don't know his name." That was literally it.
Sollux wondered a little bit, though. Common sense would tell him that a guy who'd clearly had such a hard time growing up as Gamzee would be rude or antisocial (at least, more antisocial than him, who wouldn't have gone out to lunch with four other people unless he'd been forced) or something, but he always seemed like a genuinely nice guy. He took all of Karkat's verbal abuse (mostly in affection) with a smile on his face, and it was a bit unnerving.
Finally, though, he dismissed it and decided to get to his own homework instead of wondering about some guy he barely knew.
When he'd finished his homework, he pulled his glasses off his face and rubbed his eyes. He stretched back in his seat, glancing at his phone, and saw that he'd been working for almost two hours; it was nearly five-thirty. He covered a yawn with the back of his hand and blinked slowly.
Suddenly, he squinted. He couldn't see six feet past the bridge of his nose, but he was pretty sure he saw a flash of purple past one of the shelves—and not Gamzee's favored dark, nearly-blue purple. This looked like the purple in Eridan Ampora's hair or eyes—even though he knew those were contacts, they had to be—but the flash of color was too big to be either. It looked almost like a shirt, and he scrambled to put his glasses back on to see.
By the time he did so, though, whoever it was had escaped from view.
It couldn't have been him, Sollux realized. Eridan had been wearing a black shirt when Sollux had doused him with soda. He remembered that clearly. Still, something about the situation nagged at him until he threw his Chemistry book back into his backpack and started to weave between the rows of shelves, hunting that flash of purple he'd caught. He wasn't sure why he couldn't just let it go—he just knew he couldn't.
He left the back room of the library, scanned what little of it he could see through the doorway before dismissing the two other people in the room—Gamzee, who was in black, and some girl he didn't know in olive-green—and turning around to begin his foray in the main room.
He stopped almost immediately, though. Twenty feet in front of him, his profile to Sollux, was Eridan Ampora. He'd changed his clothes, because he wore black jeans now and a purple plaid shirt that, reticent as he was to admit it, fit him well. It looked incredibly soft and for a second, he wanted to reach out and feel it for himself. He caught himself, though. It was definitely the same shirt he'd seen in the back room out of the corner of his eye, but he still wasn't sure how he'd seen the color and automatically associated it with Ampora. That was madness to the twelfth degree.
Eridan, fortunately, hadn't noticed him yet. He seemed intent on his book, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his pointed nose. Everything about his face seemed angular, thin, sharp. Even his lips were on the thin side, but not unpleasantly so. Maybe because he wore it well, carrying himself like a prince even though he was just some rich hipster kid.
He felt half of him sneer inwardly in disgust. This asshole hated him, and even though he could definitely see himself licking the back of his neck and finding out what his moans sounded like, he knew it would never happen. Besides, he wasn't a slave to his hormones, even if it had been an embarrassingly long time since he'd last gotten laid. Just because he found someone infuriatingly attractive didn't mean he'd lose sleep or his head over it or act like a complete moron.
Even though that was basically what he was doing now. Sollux realized he was still standing in the doorway between the two rooms and essentially creeping on Eridan. Resisting the near-overwhelming urge to smack his forehead, he shifted his backpack, put his head down, and hurried out of the library, past Ampora, before the other boy could catch sight of him.
Apparently not fast enough, though, because he could have sworn he heard Ampora call, "Hey!" in a tone that was neither friendly nor unfriendly. He didn't stop to find out. He just charged through the automatic doors and into the dry heat of the early evening.
Once he got to the bus stop, he remembered his ear buds and felt like an even bigger idiot. They would have given him the perfect excuse to ignore Eridan. Oh, well. He fished them out of his backpack, plugged them into his phone, and turned on his music as he waited for the bus. He looked up every so often out of slight suspicion and curiosity, half-paranoid that he'd see that purple BMW of Eridan's coming toward him—although why Ampora would search him out was beyond him. He pushed the idea out of his head; it wouldn't make sense and he didn't pay attention to things that didn't make sense. External things, anyway.
Five minutes before the bus arrived, the blond boy from this morning swung into view. His headphones were over his ears now, his glasses still completely obscuring his eyes. He seemed absorbed in his phone, although his stride was surefooted and confident.
Stride. Strider. Dave Strider. That was his name, Sollux was sure of it now. He was fairly certain he was a friend of Karkat's, but he didn't know how he knew it except that somehow, he knew this guy's name. He didn't think Aradia would necessarily be friends with him, although he supposed he could have been friends with Terezi. Either way, Dave only glanced at him to acknowledge his presence—at least, Sollux thought Dave glanced at him; it was hard to tell with the sunglasses—and sat down on the opposite end of the bench.
Eridan Ampora's car never swung into sight. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.
Sollux was standing by the doors of the bus two stops before his own, waiting to jump off. He was paranoid about public transportation, sure that people were always watching him. It wasn't as bad when he was at school because at least then he was surrounded by college students who were wrapped up in their own little worlds, but off-campus, out in actual public, he was convinced they could see through him, that they could tell without even hearing him speak that he had a lisp or that they knew he had mismatched eyes. The logical part of him told him there was nothing wrong with having heterochromia or a speech impediment (and God, he hated to even think of it like that because it made him sound retarded or something) or bipolar disorder or even all three together, but the irrational, louder part of him called him a freak and wouldn't let him forget it. He was surprised he even had any friends—somehow, it wasn't obvious on the outside just how much of a mess he was on the inside, but there had to be something to give it away, something that would warn the world away from even getting involved in the wreck that was Sollux Captor's precious little life.
Terezi liked to make fun of him, though—he knew it wasn't meant in earnest, but sometimes it cut him deeper than he admitted. Aradia was nice to everyone—her friendship with him was nearly a given, although he wondered if they would have even gotten this close if he hadn't tutored her though French I their first semester. Karkat had ditched him for Gamzee—that had been his fault, too, but Karkat had made that final cut. Apart from them, he realized he didn't really have friends.
Maybe Eridan hated everything about him because he could sense he hated everything about himself.
Sollux visibly flinched, praying no one saw him—of course they saw him, he was standing right by the freaking door—but they were probably too preoccupied with their phones or something to notice him, his rational side reminded him quietly—but it was true. If anyone else talked to him like he talked to himself, he would hate them for eternity.
Maybe I do need to go back on my meds. He felt the crushing weight of a depressive low coming on, still somehow less debilitating than his manic highs. He didn't want to go back on his medication, though. He'd been doing better the last few months. Besides, as long as all the negativity in his head stayed there and he didn't hurt himself again, what difference would it make? He could handle the quiet taunting of his inner demons.
As soon as the bus doors opened at his stop, he hopped off and headed down the street toward his apartment building. He sensed before he heard footsteps behind him, and he surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder. Dave was coming up behind him, along with another, slightly-taller blond boy who could have been his brother. Dave referred to him as "bro," anyway. Their voices carried across the short distance between where he stood by the door to the building and where they were walking.
Then again, it might not have meant anything at all. He had classmates who called their friends "bro" all the time. Still, they looked so much alike that he was willing to bet it was actually the case. They both even wore sunglasses, although the taller one's sunglasses were pointed. Anime shades, his brain supplied helpfully.
In his apartment, he went to the fridge and unwrapped two slices of leftover pizza. His stomach rumbled, but in a way that almost seemed obligatory (yes, I'm hungry and you know I'm hungry, but let me just remind you) as he stuck the pizza in the microwave and nuked them for forty-five seconds. It seemed like longer than six hours since he'd eaten last.
He ended up eating his pizza in front of his computer, playing Portal for the hundredth time, and by the time he finished dinner, it was time for him to go to sleep if he wanted to be up in time for class (which started at eight-thirty tomorrow). He sighed, shut down his computer, and washed and put away his plate (as well as the one from breakfast, which he'd left in the sink) as fast as he could. After that, he took out his contact lens, popped his sleeping pills, and crawled into bed. He had a feeling tomorrow was going to be a long, annoying day. Then again, Tuesdays usually were.
So right now I'm thinking that this could be 35 chapters. That's the number I put on AO3, anyway. It could still theoretically be longer (maybe up to 50 chapters, who knows? There's still ships I haven't introduced yet and they all get together before the end!) than that, which is mind-blowing because my longest fic to date is 31 chapters.
*Edit: Caught a typo and fixed it. I wrote the last like 700 words of this fighting sleep. I'm surprised this wasn't riddled with errors. If you catch any others, in this chapter or previous ones (or future ones!), just let me know and I'll be more than happy to fix them!*
