Your name is Eridan Ampora. You have been kidnapped for several days, it's two in the morning, and all you can think about is how much you want to punch Sollux Captor.

Since being captured and held here, you have been told that the only way out is through murder, and while you have no intention of doing that, he is really fucking pushing you here. Honestly, he cannot believe these things. He just thinks it's funny to annoy you, clearly.

"Look, I'm not trying to start this shit up again," he says, "I'm just saying that leaving it alone for a few hours doesn't change the math. I'm still right. This is just how statistics work, okay?"

"No not fucking okay! It doesn't make any sense." You two have been arguing over this for far too long. You thought it was over when you brought Feferi in to settle it—around four hours ago now—but here you are, still arguing over shitty hypothetical gameshow doors.

Sollux's rebuttal is stopped in its tracks when Dave appears in the door. You didn't hear him coming—were you really arguing that loud?

"Am I… interrupting something…?" he asks awkwardly.

Feferi puts on a polite smile. "Not at all. Were you… looking for something or…?"

"Just, uh. Just getting water."

You all stay silent as he pours his water. You try not to stare, knowing he probably hates this as much as you do, but there just isn't much else to look at. Finally, he leaves, giving you an awkward smile as he passes. You smile back a second too late.

"Sneaky bastard," Sollux mutters. "Where the fuck did he even come from? Anyway, you're still wrong."

And back to arguing.

"It makes no sense!" You hiss. "The odds can't change mid-game, that's bullshit."

"They do though." It's like he wants you to punch him.

"Same doors, same stats. How stupid are you?" Feferi is probably sick to death of hearing you two, but you can't just let this go, you can't just let him win.

"I'm not stupid, Eridan, I'm literally considered a genius. And that's why I know just how wrong you are." There's more than a pinch of malice in his words. You can't be wrong; this makes no fucking sense. Statistics are fucking stupid at the best of times. He straightens out of his slouch and glares down at you. It's a challenge, you know it is. It's also a massive mistake—but not as big as the one you're about to make.

You step forward and shove him as hard as you can. He has well over half a foot on you, but he's light and uncoordinated, and he tumbles straight back. His head smacks off the counter as he falls, and all you can think is "shit" as you reach out to stop him far too late.

Feferi gasps behind you. You whirl around. Fuck. You have to fix this. How are you supposed to fix this? Terror flickers over her eyes, but as your eyes meet hers it shifts to anger. The only one still scared is you.

You don't register her moving, and you don't register yourself moving either. Adrenaline floods your veins, and your thought process goes straight to shit, along with impulse control and basic human decency, as she rushes towards you.

She moves first. You block her harshly and unskilfully in your panic. If she was planning to counter, she never gets the chance. With no clue what you're doing, you grab her, harder than necessary, and hit her head off of the counter. She makes a choked noise, half-way to a scream, struggling against your grip. You don't let up. You slam her down again. Again. Again. Again.

You don't know how many times you do it. Eventually, you let go, and she drops to the floor. Blood is dripping from the counter, pooling around her head, spreading into a puddle that seeps into her dress and wets her hair. It's a gruesomely transfixing sight.

What the fuck have you done?

You've killed them both. You're going to be caught and killed, and if you aren't, you'll do it yourself. God, you are so fucked.

You stumble back until your back hits the wall and slide down the floor. You have killed two people. This is going to be the last night of your life, and you know it. This is going to be the last night of your life, and you're going to spend it surrounded by the sins that will kill you.

Your certainty can't override your emotions. It doesn't take long for the grief and regret to hit you full force and leave you burying your face in your hands, sobbing your eyes out. You miss your brother. You miss your dad. Fuck, you miss your mum, and you haven't even thought about her in months now. At least you'll be with her soon. You'll never see Cronus again, never see that movie he was so excited about, never hear him talk on and on about his car again, never help him paint his nails to impress someone again. You'll never get another hug from your dad, never come home to find tea and a cookie on the table because he always just knew when it had been a bad day. Oh, what you'd do to be able to walk back into your house after a bad school day…

You don't know how long you cry. At least an hour, you think. You probably would have continued all night if something across the room didn't catch your eye. Sollux moves.

You freeze instinctively, tears streaming down your face, as he oh-so-slowly sits up; blinking, rubbing his eyes, and wincing as the pain hits him. His hand goes to the wound on his head, and comes back covered in blood. He doesn't seem to have noticed you cowering against the wall, or even Feferi's body—oh, never mind. He has certainly noticed that one now.

"FF…?" He moves over to her, half slipping in the puddle of blood. "Fuck… I was kinda asking for that, but her…?" He cautiously feels around her forehead and his expression darkens. You let out a terrified sob, and catch his attention.

You remember a romance novel you read years ago that said some infinites are larger than other infinities. You never did get that; but you think you do now. These moments of staring at Sollux feel like the longest of your life. An infinity passes in only a few seconds.

"Hey." His voice is soft, careful. You can't believe he's talking at all.

Your words stick in your throat. "I'm sorry," you finally force out. "I didn't—" You swallow thickly. "I didn't mean to…"

The tears rise up again, and you clench your eyes shut. You're certain he's going to kill you—why wouldn't he? —and you don't want to see it coming. But all you feel is a gentle hand against your cheek.

"Hey, it's… It's okay."

You look up at him. He's still bleeding. Feferi's corpse is on the ground behind him. How could anything possibly be okay? You have ruined everything.

And yet… he's alive.

There's no hope of the same for Feferi, you know that. You killed her. There will be no miracle saving you from this. But Sollux is alive. And that's something. That's one less death on your hands. Not that that changes anything for you; you'll be executed for one death just as much as you would've two. But at least you can die with slightly less blood on your hands.

You're so busy thinking to yourself that you stopped paying attention to Sollux. He has settled just in front of you, lowering himself to eye level. "Come on. We can't change the past, but we can do something about the future." You look at him, completely lost. "Get up. You're not gonna help yourself just sitting there. You need to get cleaned up and get some sleep or else it's gonna be really fucking obvious that you did this."

You hesitate. "What are you sayin'?"

"I'm saying that I'm going to help you, idiot. Now, come on." He holds out his hand. Do you take it? Oh, who are you kidding, you don't have a choice. You take his hand and you both help each other stand up. Sollux's legs tremble, and every time he falters you feel another jolt of guilt.

He heads straight for the sink, while you still stand half frozen. He seems so calm. How can be so calm right now? The first-aid kit is still right at the front of the cabinet from this morning, so he finds it easily and starts fumbling through it. After a moment, he calls you over to help. Together, you get his head all wrapped up. To you, the bandage makes it look so much worse. He still doesn't seem bothered.

The cleaning up process goes by in a hazy blur. You and Sollux clean up the blood that you had been tracking over the floor, but don't touch the puddle around Feferi. There's too much to even consider it; you only focus on the footprints. When it's done, he takes your hand to lead you along to the bedrooms.

You open your door on autopilot. It isn't until you're staring into the barren room, tauntingly different from your room at home, that you realise how desperately you don't want to be alone.

Sollux turns to you, about to speak, but before you even stop to think you throw your arms around him and cling on.

"Please don't go," you whimper. You sound fucking pathetic, and you know it, but you can't do anything about that.

His arms come up around you. "Of course not," he murmurs back, pulling you against him. You let your head rest against his shoulder as he holds you tight. He keeps holding you for a few more moments, before he lets you go. You have to restrain yourself from clinging on like a child.

"Take a shower and get changed. You're still covered in blood." He carefully wipes a drop from your cheek.

You nod, and do as he says. When you're finished, you put your binder back on. There's already too much on your mind to put up with dysphoria. Even being alone for a few minutes is enough to tip you towards a breakdown, so you move as fast as you can. You walk out to find Sollux has pulled out clothes for tomorrow and gathered your pillows.

"Come on," he says, reaching for your hand. "I can't sleep unless I'm in my own room."

You take his hand, and walk together. You don't think about how you're going to avoid being seen leaving his room in the morning. Actually, you completely avoid thinking about that. Lalalalala, not thinking about it!

Sollux goes to shower, as you sit gingerly on the side of his bed. You can't tell if he gets ready even faster than you did, or if you're just extremely out of it. Maybe both. When he returns, he turns off the light and settles down with you. You're doing pretty good at holding yourself together, until he rests his arm softly around your waist, and you lose it faster than you ever have before. Grief, regret, and fear all hit you at once, and you start to sob again.

He pulls you closer—gently, like you're about to shatter—and wraps his arms around you. Your tears are soaking into his shirt but he doesn't push you away. You're being loud, and probably really fucking annoying, but he doesn't push you away. You killed her. He doesn't push you away.

Crying on him teaches you a lot about him, in an odd way. Despite his sharpness, both literal and otherwise, he can be so soft, and so gentle. However cold he's always been to you, he is warm and caring now. He is comforting, and feels like home, and you can feel that awfully familiar feeling rising in your chest that you've never known how to push down. Your father always told you that you had your mother's bad habit of falling in love. You always responded that there was nothing bad about it—but now you think he was probably right.

You're the one who pulls away in the end. Sollux seems like he would've let you cry forever if you wanted to.

"We should get some sleep," he whispers half-heartedly, pushing some of your still-damp hair out of your face. You nod, but you know you won't. All your dreams would be about her.

Even so, you curl up under the covers with him. He fidgets for a moment, then reaches for your hand. You clasp it tightly, and try your best to pretend you're asleep. Over the next half hour, you learn another thing about Sollux; he's a much better actor than you. After thirty minutes of lying in the dark, thinking about everything you're going to miss in life, you open your eyes to find his staring you down.

"You're not sleeping," he says.

"Neither are you," you counter. He half-smiles. He never seems to fully do anything, especially not expression-wise.

"Can't sleep when I'm being watched." A red-hot flush spreads over your cheeks. I wasn't watching him, you reason to yourself. My eyes opened every once in a while, and he's the only thing I can see in this light. "What's keeping you up?" he continues.

You think before you answer—a rare occurrence, if you're honest. "Thinkin'," you eventually settle on, "about things I'll never get to do."

He softens and reaches up to your face. You can't resist gently pushing into his hand; his warm touch is addictive.

"Don't say that. You're going to be fine." In the darkness you can barely see the sadness behind his eyes, but you know it's there. "You're going to get out of here."

You shake your head. "I won't. I can't." It's clear he doesn't like that, but you know that you're right. Getting out of here stopped being an option for you long ago.

And yet you wonder… There's still time. You could clean up the kitchen, move the body. Plant her somewhere—like the dining room—deny seeing her at all that night. You could hide the body altogether; everyone would know she was gone but surely, they can't prove you did it if they can't find her. That's a thing, isn't it? Can't be charged with murder if they don't find a body? You could avoid still get away with murder, live to see your family again, live the rest of your life… but the consequences for everyone else are just too great. One of you is going to die today, and it sure as hell won't be Sollux.

He sighs and looks into your eyes for a few moments before asking, "What things are you going to miss?"

There are so many things you could say. You had dreams, life goals, a whole bucket list of things that will never be achieved but, being the hopeless romantic you are, all you can think of is, "I'm never going to get a first kiss."

A few beats pass. Sollux looks hesitant.

"Well… it's not too late for that." He swallows thickly. "Still going to be hours before anyone even finds her. Plenty of time, really."

Your eyes flicker down to his lips involuntarily. He's biting at them awkwardly. Is he offering to kiss you? Do you want him to kiss you? Stupid question, you definitely want him to kiss you. His biting gets more anxious and you realise you should probably be saying something. You can't just leave him hanging after that. What are you supposed to say in this situation? A whole sixteen years of dreaming about romance, and you really have no fucking clue. Shit, okay, just don't say something dumb. This is not a good time to make a fool of yourself.

"Are you, like… offering?"

You are the stupidest motherfucker to ever walk the Earth.

Luckily for you, he must like that, because he just laughs. It's nothing like the mocking scoffs you've grown used to over the past few days. His eyes light up, and the different shades in each of them seems to dance despite the lack of light. Finally, he smiles—a real, full smile for the first time since you met him—and catches your eyes.

"Yes," he says, smile still quirking up the corners of his mouth, "I'm 'offering'." He pulls his hands out from under the duvet to use air quotes. He's such a dick. You really do want to kiss him. "I mean, one of us has to die. Neither of us have had a first kiss. The universe is practically begging us."

You snort. "You think a cosmic being wants us to kiss?"

"I'm just saying, the set-up is perfect." His smirk is playful rather than scornful, and it just makes you want to kiss him more. It almost makes you wish you knew what the fuck you're doing, since you are quickly realising that this is nowhere near as simple as it looks in the movies. Maybe you should just reply, since you clearly suck at thinking.

"It sure is." You mentally smack yourself. Seriously, make yourself seem like more of an idiot.

Neither of you know what you're doing, which is a little comforting. At least it's not just you. Your eyes flit back down to his lips, and you decide you should probably start doing something. Leaning in, or whatever. Goddamn, you have no clue what you're doing. You shuffle close to him anyway. Nothing will come of this if you don't at least try, no matter how excruciatingly awkward your attempt is turning out to be.

You both lean in at the same time, and a spectacular combination of inexperience and almost complete darkness combine to create one hell of a headbutt. The two of you wince, laughing it off as best you can, before he grabs your wrist.

"Okay, this is not fucking working. Sit up."

You do. There's no way it can make it any worse, except it absolutely can as you quickly discover when he scrambles up beside you. You've begun to realise that kissing is very confusing. How do faces even go together?

"We aren't very good at this," you point out.

"Yeah, but that's allowed. First times are supposed to be awkward, right?" Your cheeks go red. He said it innocently, but, fuck, that phrase has connotations. To your relief, he just keeps talking. "This is difficult," he complains. "Movies always make it look so easy.

"What if we…" You trail off, not really knowing how to articulate your thoughts. Instead of really trying to, you decide it'll be easier to just show him.

A few seconds and one near slip later, you're sitting across his lap. You're sitting on a boy. In his bed. Holy fuck. You really never thought you'd get this far. He leaning back against the pillows, half-upright, and here you are, right in his lap. Sollux gives you an unexpectedly calm smile and places his hands at your waist. He starts moving them up, but he must notice your rising panic as he nears your binder since they settle back at your waist not a moment later.

"We should probably stop fucking around now. I mean, we can just stop if you want to, but otherwise we should really hurry up and do it before we just keep awkward-ing our way out of it all night." His tone is soft and his eyes are too. "So… are you sure about this?"

"Yes." You don't have to think for a second. You like him—a lot fucking more than you could have anticipated—and this is your last chance. You've never been surer about anything.

"Well, this is probably the best shot we're gonna get."

He's right. So, you lean in, and this time you figure out what to do just in time.

His grip tightens around your waist as your lips meet his, and despite all the awkwardness leading up to it, you can't help but melt into him. You wrap your arms around his neck, soaking up his warmth. God, he's so warm. He doesn't protest; much the opposite, actually, as he cautiously deepens the kiss. It's fucking euphoric, and you never want it to end.

It does, though, as a sharp pain hits you just as you consider how at home you feel in his arms. Against your will, you jerk back in shock, reaching for your head. The feeling's already fading.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow knitted. Shit, he probably thinks that was his fault.

You nod. "Just—ow—just a really sudden headache…," you assure him. "I'm fine, it's already gone. Pretty much anyway."

He still looks concerned. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was nothing. Just weird."

"Well, as long as you're alright…" He trails off as you let him draw you back in to another kiss.

His hands start moving again after a few seconds, and before you can stop him, he brushes up against the hooks of your binder. Shit. You pull away, not wanting to see his reaction. But when you look at him, he only seems… concerned?

"How long have you been wearing that?" You don't answer. "Never mind, I've been around you all day anyway. That's not safe, ED."

That's… huh?

"It's been like eighteen fucking hours; you're going to hurt yourself. You should take that off."

You shake your head instinctively. No way in hell are you putting up with your chest right now.

"Okay, I'm going to rephrase that. You need to take your binder off, now, before you get hurt."

"I don't want to." The words stick in your throat, barely coming out at all.

"I get that but you've been wearing it all day. Unless you're really shooting for a broken rib, you have to take it off."

"Sol—"

"Cool, still not being clear enough. This isn't a discussion." He takes your hand gently. "If you don't want to me to touch you, or even look at you, I don't care. That's fine, I'm totally okay with that result. Just take the fucking binder off before you hurt yourself. Please." He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, and you sigh. You know that he's right. You just really don't like it.

"Fine."

You get up quickly so you can't think yourself out of it. He turns away, although it's dark enough that you can't imagine he'd be able to see you anyway. It's difficult to not overthink what you're doing, but you push through it. When you slide back into the bed beside him, he keeps his word, not looking at you until you tug his head around. He doesn't settle back against you until you do first, tangling your arms around him. The bed feels infinitely more comfortable intertwined with him. You feel so calm you could almost forget what brought you to this moment.

Sollux scoots ever so slightly closer to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath. "We need to sleep," he whispers. "And for real this time."

You open your mouth to agree, but all that comes out is a yawn. He laughs softly and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe you'll sleep soundly after all. With your limbs entangled with his, it certainly isn't the most comfortable position, but you've never felt so safe in your life.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you could never forget waking up. You've both twisted and turned in your sleep and ended up lying stomach to back, clinging to Sollux like a koala. One of your arms is trapped under him and completely dead and he's almost stiflingly hot against you. By any standard, it should be awful, but you don't want to get up. You'd rather stay with him forever than face the day.

The morning announcement is yet to go off. Glancing up to the screen on the wall you find that you still have half an hour before everyone else gets up. Sollux shifts against you and your chest pangs with regret. All that time wasted fighting with him, and for what? If you'd been less stubborn, you could have been friends. Maybe things could have always been like this…

But there's no time for maybes.

Right now, in this moment, you are content. You know your death will come today, and you know Sollux will do everything he can to stop it. You know he'll fail, and you know that you'll love him for it. You still don't know why he's doing this, but, God, you're grateful.

Soon, you'll wake Sollux up. You'll head back to your own room before anyone can see you, and you'll sit on your own until Sollux messages you. You'll spend the last free time you have talking to him, until the announcement goes off and Rose finds the body. You'll stay with him the whole day, you'll follow his every word, and you'll know that it's for you—but you still don't know why.

When death is staring you in the face, you'll think back to this moment, and every other moment spent with him. It's more than I deserved, you'll think. You'll be wrong, but you won't know that. You certainly won't know why.

But that's later, and this is now. And now you're warm, you're calm, and you think you're ready for whatever may come.