Disclaimer: Homestuck will never belong to me.

This is to all the Dirk x Roxy fans. Man, you guys are great converters.

In a way, you've always noticed her.

She was the new kid transferring in on the first day of high school. You were the obvious cool guy with the pointy shades. There was a fleeting glance between you and her. She looked calm and collected, yet slightly dreamy, tipsy even. That didn't mean anything though.

Then you begin to see her at drinking parties.

Then you begin to notice her frequent places to hang out.

Then in your junior year, you have her in your Computer Engineering class for fifth period.

And that was when you finally learned her name. Roxy Lalonde.

It was a little unsettling really. You've never made contact with her, nor have you ever seen her sitting with anybody whenever you walked past her haunts. It wasn't like you were overly popular, with the Strider charisma and all, but it wasn't like she was unpopular at the same time.

She had pretty, short blonde hair with that one piece of swirly hair that could've been considered like those erogenous zones in the animes. Her eyes, even from a distance, were a shiny pink that did not burn off your eyes like most did. Her whole body and face showed signs of grace and ease. She should have been someone easy to talk to.

Yet for some reason, she was untouchable.

She took different routes, hallways, where there were less people. She was either always at the first or the last of a line out the door. Whenever she had to go anywhere, she could fit into the crowd, blending in until he couldn't find her.

People spoke of her, but mostly on her ways of getting people together. Jane had once commented that she had talked to her once. That was probably why Jane managed to get with your crush, Jake English, in the first place.

It also probably starts when you begin to take notice of her next class.

She, Roxy, is the only one in your class to take the more isolated hallway nearby for her next class while everyone else takes the main one. You also notice that your classes are in the same direction, but hers was just one more hallway up ahead. You watch her from behind and sometimes have to slow down just to see her pass the far end of the hall.

One day, in the name of irony, you decide to take her route.

You aren't sure what she felt. But you knew that she was aware of your presence.

For a week you kept this up. For a week you find out she liked making little noises on the lockers or on the ground when everything was quiet. For a week you find out she likes to hum absentmindedly. For a week, you find many little quirks about her. For a week you start to wonder if she has found anything about you also.

And this unsettles you a lot, because it dawns on you it's not all about irony anymore.

Starting on Monday, you return back to your old routine down the main hall.

Starting from Monday to Friday, you notice the differences.

For a week, you notice you are always one minute and fifty-seven seconds later than before. For a week, you notice the crowd might be a little overwhelming and loud. For a week, you notice there too many things to see until your vision blurs. For a week, you notice that your heart's a little more empty than before.

And this upsets you, because you know somewhere inside you has changed.

It's a Monday again, and for the first time, after a tiring weekend of troubling thoughts, Roxy takes the main hallway with you.

There is nothing that means anything has to do with you. There is no amused smile on her face. There are no glances at you. Her pace is the same as before. She blends into the crowd quite well, that you've had to actually make an effort to follow her.

You try making excuses of why she was taking the main hallway. Maybe she was heading for a new class. Maybe she had to go to the nurse. Maybe the office, the library. You kept making excuses, trying to fight down the strange feeling in your chest.

But then she passes the nurses office. She passes the hallway to the office. She passes the hallway to the library. And finally when she passes your classroom hall, you already know she's going to turn left, instead of right, one hallway down.

After you no longer see her, after you arrive for class, strangely earlier than usual, you vow to walk with her tomorrow. Side by side this time, for tomorrow and the rest of the years afterward.

And you were going to tell her you loved her. Because for some crazy reason, you were.

Yet the next day feels different. Begins different.

"Today, everyone, is a sad day."

The announcement starts, and while this usually doesn't concern you, you can't help but listen.

"Many of our beloved students have died the day before in a bus collision."

For some reason, you can't help but feel a growing dread.

"Let us have a moment of silence for the students named..."

For some reason you can no longer breathe correctly.

"...Gregory Kirkland, Roxy Lalonde, Drake Lor..."

You are no longer listening. Only hearing one name.

"What's wrong?"

Your friends ask and fret over you in worry.

"Why're you crying?"

"Who did you know?"

"Dirk?"