There's this really weird feeling I get sometimes, deep down in my chest, like all of my guts are trying to force their way through my ribs and I kind of get the urge to throw up.
Now, I'm not really saying that it's a bad feeling or anything- I think it's neat. It's nice. I mean, not when I feel like I'm going to throw up of course, but yeah. It's just really weird.
There's this troll I know, Gamzee. He's really nice. He's really, really nice to me.
Gamzee's pies make him smell kind of gross, but once you get past that you see just how neat he is. We have a lot of fun together. He's a really good rapper, too. I mean, I'm not really has good as he is, but he's completely okay with helping me get better.
Well, I guess that brings me to where I am now.
We're sitting up here now, on the roof of the hideout. It's a little chilly, but I can only feel half of my body so I guess I'm alright. Gamzee is squatting down beside me, spacing off again. He does that a lot, but I don't mind it one bit.
He's doing that really nice hand thing again, where he holds my hand in his and he twists our fingers up like a pretzel or shoelaces or something. It makes me get that feeling that I mentioned before, like I could explode at any second. At the same time though, I feel happy. Even if our palms are getting all sweaty and gross, I feel happy.
He calls me a “smiley motherfucker” and I laugh with a really embarrassing snort.
It's the moments like this that make me glad we're friends.
Gamzee is staring at me sort of expectantly, which is really funny looking because his eyes are always so droopy.
I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, but I kind of feel like it is. A lot. I think.
I put my face a little closer to his and just stopped there, like an inch away from him. He smells even weirder up close. He smells really weird and I'm just trying to get my mind off of my thumping chestmeat and it's beating harder and harder and I feel sick and I need Rufio
he smiles his goofy smile.
So I just put my head on his shoulder, awkwardly nuzzling my face into the side of his head. His hair tickles really badly, like I had just dived into a pile of smelly feathers. I sneeze and he laughs.
I don't really know how to explain it, but I try to kiss him.
Well, it's not much of a kiss at first, mostly because I'm really bad at it.
I squint my eyes shut and pucker my lips and manage to squish my face against his nose, which smears some of his facepaint into a blur. He honks and pats the top of my head clumsily, calling me a “silly motherfucker” this time. Rufio never made me feel this happy.
I try again, kind of making it towards his mouth this time. Am I supposed to do it turn-ways?
I think he knows how much I'm struggling because he guided me into a significantly less awkward kiss, with his palm flat against my chin. A real kiss. A Vriska-free kiss.
We kind of just sit there afterward. It feels really nice.
Gamzee looks even more goofy than usual. One of his arms is draped around my shoulder like a soggy noodle and the other one is drawing outlines of clown faces in the sky. He begins to babble about miracles and we lay on our backs, chatting into the night about what flavors of Faygo he likes best.