Author's note: This time on "Lizzy Attempts To Write a Fic," I try to write a highschool AU that isn't what would be considered a "typical yaoi highschool AU!" The M rating is tentative, because I'm still not entirely sure what direction I want to go with this story, but enjoy!

Be Karkat.

Today is the day that your whole life will come crashing down around you.

It's the day you have been dreading ever since the moment it began.

Doomsday.

The apocalypse.

You have known it from the moment you woke up this morning, from the way the air felt heavy and the whole world felt cold.

So cold.

It only made sense to wear another jacket over your worn and dirtied favorite grey hoodie, the way a medieval soldier might wear another layer of chain mail to protect from the claws of a ferocious dragon.

Because, after all, what you are about to face is much worse than any fire breathing creature could ever be.

It is surely your own death.

And so there you are, sitting in the front row of your 3rd hour history class, waiting for your life to end.

Waiting for her to kill you.

You look, just look, at her the whole class period, your whole body tense and your hands trembling as you try desperately to write the notes you are supposed to be writing and instead you just scribble incoherently.

She doesn't glance at you a single time.

Not once.

The whole hour, not once do those fierce hazel eyes meet yours.

And so you continue to scribble.

And she continues to ignore you.

And you wait on pins and needles like you are waiting for the president to announce that the whole world is going to war.

Not until the bell rings and the rest of the class is gone from the room in a hazy blur of brand name shirts and cheap perfume does Terezi acknowledge you.

When you go to hug her when you meet in the doorway, she dodges you.

And that's how you know.

With a pat on the shoulder, she says in a tone that isn't like her, "Come find me after school, Karkles, we need to talk."

And that's how you know.

As she turns and makes her way to her next class(physics - you know her whole schedule by heart,) her hips sway in that way that has always mesmerized you and you are left feeling absolutely worthless.

And that's how you know you had been right all along.

Those four words.

"We need to talk."

The words that no one, under any circumstances, wants to hear from their significant other, ever, because no matter how they are delivered, they always bring the worst to mind.

Always.

Those words echoe over and over and over again in your mind the rest of the day.

They never go away, never stop torturing you.

They haunt you in English.

You write them over and over again in your notebook in Algebra.

When you fall in P.E. and just lay there face down on the floor while your teacher screams at you to "get your lazy rear of the effing floor," you swear you can see them written in the lines in the polished wood.

"We need to talk."

But you don't want to talk, you don't want to talk about anything, you don't want to ever hear what you have known you were going to hear since the very beginning of everything.

You aren't mentally prepared for it.

You don't think you could ever be prepared.

But still you go.

Still, you set yourself up for the end.

After the last bell, when she closes her locker door with a slam and looks you right in the eye, this time it's you who can't make eye contact.

Instead, you watch her lips form the words you can't hear over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Unfortunately, you are pretty decent at reading lips.

"It's over, Karkat."

That's all you can make out, and that's all you can bear to.

Anything else would destroy you.

If you weren't already.

You can't tell.

Is this how being dumped is supposed to feel?

Like you have just had a spear shoved through your abdomen and you are slowly bleeding out onto the floor while the dumper just stands there and watches?

You can't move, you can't blink, you can't function anymore.

You forget to breathe.

You suck air noisily into your lungs and clutch at the fabric of your shirt near your heart.

Maybe you are having a heart attack.

You are definitely having a heart attack.

Terezi groans, exasperated, and lifts her backpack up off the floor, slinging it over her bony shoulder.

"Cut the shit, Karkat. This is exactly what I was talking about. Dramatics. Not being able to handle reality. I'm sorry, god knows I am, but I can't do this anymore, kid. I just can't. It was fun, but we need to move on and grow up."

And for the second time today, she turns and strides away, thin hips swaying, leaving you worthless, hopeless, less in every way in her wake.

You stumble back against her locker and slide down it, sitting on the floor in the middle of the now empty Junior hallway, digging the heels of your palms into your malfunctioning eyes(crying is not something that you are supposed to do, you are strong, you are brave, you don't cry. Crying is for babies.)

You tear off the extra layer of chain mail and throw it at the row of lockers across from you.

You lost her.

You lost Terezi Pyrope.

You lost the girl you love more than any overused phrase could ever portray.

But you had known that it was going to happen from the very beginning.

Because no matter what you do, it is impossible to tame a dragon like her.