Oh shit, here he comes. You watch an angry boy enter the cafeteria. An angry troll, to be exact.
…Alright. You’ll explain this.
You have a normal life for a geeky teenager. Anime, Adventure Time, Hot Topic and the like. You also read a flash-animated webcomic called Homestuck. It’s become an obsession lately; that’s all you doodle in your math notebook and it’s the only thing you rant about anymore. You’ve become used to the puzzled stares and gaping mouths as you ramble on about quadrants and warning of the stairs when in proximity of a few steps. You’re used to being passive-aggressively shunned for expressing your oddities, and it’s basically in Homestuck role-playing with other addicted internet people and fan fiction that you find solace.
Until of course, one of the characters start going to your school.
You aren’t too sure of how the hell this happened, some paradox shit or something, but there’s no mistaking the very real creases in the boy’s clothing, the hood pulled over his head not only hiding unruly dark hair but small, nubby protrudences that he manages to hide, and the glistening, cat-like eyes he has that could burn a hole through hardened cement.
He always sits alone, you observe. You also observed how no one has any clue that his melanin pigmentation isn’t quite human. That’s a good summarization of what you’ve been doing since he arrived at your school. Observing. Watching. Waiting.
You suppose now is a good time as ever.
You throw your half-eaten, clearly half-assedly made food into a nearby trashcan and make your way to the lone boy. He seems to not be too interested in his food, so you take the initiative and sit down across from him. You think of so many suave lines to jab at the troll, to earn insta-respect from the grumpy being. Things like:
‘Not as good as Alternian, huh?’
‘I think it’s safe to say sopor is probably better than that gruel.’
None of these make it out of your mouth as the troll’s head snaps up to glare into your eyes. Is… is that a bit of red in the pupils?
Karkat’s growing up.
You lose all competence as you gaze directly into the ruddy irises of his eyes.
“I, uh… umm, er,” is really all you manage. You scold yourself internally, throwing around phrases like Stupid stupid dumb.
“What the fuck do you want?” A raspy, throaty, still somewhat maturing voice escapes his lips. It’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, like smooth honey washing over your
hearing senses that still has that sense of a manly voice with the somewhat rougher edges and a deeper octave than yours.
Holy mother of Jegus.
The world hates you. It knows you can’t possibly retaliate after such a voice. You’d dreamt of meeting him, fantasized over how things would go down, and are disappointed to find that you’ve blundered this whole acquaintance. Well, you think you have.
“I, umm, nothing! Just thought you seemed a bit isolated, not that I blame you. Eighty-five percent of the population here is composed of brain-dead nitwits.” You stumble over a few words. The troll shrugs and continues eating.
“You do have a point with the latter statement, I guess,” He mumbles, and the glee in your heart just took acid, making everything beautiful and trippy.
He starts speaking again. “Am I supposed to enjoy this food?”
“Honestly, I never want to see another half pint of milk again. Or soggy tater-tot, for that matter.” Your smugness almost overrides that surreal sensation of conversing with your favorite person in the world. Always the conversational expert. Strider would be proud.
Karkat scoffs and you think you can almost see a curve forming at the left end of his mouth.
“… Still don’t know your name,” He mumbles, staring at the pool of condensation around the base of his milk carton.
You backtrack. Karkat wants to know you. Goddamn it if you aren’t the luckiest fangirl in the world.
You reply with your name and he does this little breathy laugh that makes your heart flutter.
“I guess I’ve heard worse.”
“Well then, what’s yours?” You say. Of course, you already know his name, but it’s slipups like showing that you already know it that put you in the stalker-zone.
He seems to mull over giving you his name, something you’re trying really hard not to giggle at. He’s just so fucking cute, you need insulin.
“Don’t fucking laugh at it, I realize it’s probably the stupidest name in the whole world, my mom was a fucking hippie okay-“
You cut him off so your insides don’t burst out of your mouth from shaky laughter.
“Just tell me your name, I won’t judge,” You manage.
“Fine. Karkat Vantas.” You think you see a bit of red heat creep onto his face.
Okay, you realize that your pronunciation of his name was way off. The way he said it was quite weird to be honest, KAR-kat Vun-TAHS. To be honest, it sounds a bit German or
Russian. There, you think, that eradicates any assumption that a human-esque Karkat would be a ginger. Sure, he’s a naturally angry person, but you like to think that the fandom takes that a bit too far for comfort.
You realize that your daydreaming eyes had found their way to the troll’s.
“I’m not that fucking beautiful, you creep,” he retorts. You blush and throw a comeback at him.
“Please, Vantas, you’re that one star that everyone looks at up in the sky at night and goes ‘Wow, that’s a sight I could swoon over forever.’ You are that star. It’s you.” You joke, trying so fucking hard not to laugh.
You notice that people are starting to stare, and also notice that Karkat notices it as well. He’s internally fidgeting with the spotlight thrust upon him, so you keep the conversation going.
“Out with it.” You deadpan. Dave, goddamn it wouldn’t you be proud.
He tries to avert looking into your eyes until he finally spits out the sentence like it has been eating away at his gums and vocal cords.
“Why are you talking to me?” You think he’s still averting the real truth, but you don’t push too much.
“Why not?” Well played.
“Well, I’m virtually the scum clinging to the bottom of this huge fucking ship that is high school and you’re that dumb fucking tourist who wants ‘adventure’ or some shit so you go delving into the sea of losers and morons and find me hanging on for dear life against the current and the waves.” Karkat rants.
You loved how irresistible the boy was in Homestuck with his rambling, but sweet Jegus your heart can hardly take it in person.
“Sometimes, if you go deep enough below the surface, you find the most beautifully unique things.”
Karkat laughs, and you think he doesn’t understand (or at least, he doesn’t want to) how many layers were in that sentence.
You notice people starting to leave, as this lunch period is over.
“What class do you have next?” You ask.
“Biology.” He replies.
“Cool, I have Algebra 2, so we won’t be too far apart from each other.”
As you exit to your next class, your heart is so swollen and whole you can hardly take it.