He stares at the screen for a moment.
It’s just a message. He can easily delete it. Just press that light grey little X in the corner and it would be gone.
But that wouldn’t remove the question, it would just remove the fact that someone asked about it.
And with his head in his hands he starts thinking.
Why, exactly? It would be pathetic to say he didn’t know because he did, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to spill it over the internet when he didn’t even tell Karkat.
The pain in his eyes when Dave told he’d be gone for a while. The ridiculously happiness when he returned that Dave didn’t deserve.
That halfway smile when they were chilling. The warmth. The cold. The sharpness of his teeth and the softness of his lips.
Dave put face in his hands and slowly slid down to the keyboard, resting his head against the table, covering his head with his arms as if he was protecting himself from a blow he just knew would come from behind.
Was it his voice? Was it the way it hitched when he finally calmed down after raging, or the oddly soft tone when he woke up in the middle of the night?
Was it his eyes and their oddly manipulative magic that made him feel comfortable no matter what, or the way his ashen features clenched in annoyance as he told Dave about his day?
His nails hit the table with an even rhythm. Clack, clack, clack, clack…
And slowly he realised that no matter how much he thought about it, he could only find positive things about Karkat.
Why. Why was the question, and only he could answer.
It was his own fault. This damn fucking restlessness that seemed to make up his very bones, rooted back to a fucked-up childhood and settled nicely in an uneven and insecure psyche. The need to move, the need to be free, to not be backed against a wall and always be able to do what you feel like. A selfish need but a need nonetheless.
And that was the only reason he had even managed to stay connected to Karkat for so long in the first place, because he always had the choices, and because Karkat trusted him enough to not do stupid shit.
How was he supposed to put it into words? “It’s not me, it’s you”? You’re amazing, you’re beautiful, but if I stay in this relationship any more it feels like I’ll choke? Hey Karkat! I love you, but every time I see that pinch of pain in your eye as I’m about to fuck off, I feel guilty? I feel like I need to please you, like I need to keep you happy, like every time I manage to hurt you just the tiniest bit it feels like I’m committing a crime that should be punishable with death?
Don’t you get it, babe? I’m not good enough.
You’re strong enough to stand without me having your back. You’re warm enough to wake up alone, and you’re cold enough to eventually get over me.
I love you.
I’m honored that you held up with me for this long.
And I hope you have a wonderful life with someone else.
Fuck he felt the tears sting again.