"There are feathers everywhere."

"It's fine."

"We do this all the time."

The man turned his face to his girlfriend, and lazily raised a brow. "And?"

"I'm getting goddamn sick of it, Karkat."

"Sick of what? Me?"

"No, the fact that every time we get progress in this relationship, it deteriorates into a fight and even quicker into hate sex." The girl rolled herself halfway on top of him. "Sick of it." She repeated, pecking his cheek.

Dragging himself up to an elbow, he sighed and closed his eyes, willing the ache that was settling down in his temples away. "Don't you have class?" He muttered, cracking an eye open to look at her.

"Shit." The red-haired girl was up in a second, slamming drawers open and shut, uprooting clothes from the deepest piles in their closet, and tugging on something without knowing what it was, or really caring.

"Love you." She called over her shoulder as she hurried to the door.

"Glasses."

"Fuck. Where are they…?"

Getting up, he grabbed her bright red pair off the end table and handed it to her (still naked, might I add), kissing the end of her nose and waving her off into the hallway of their crap-ass apartment complex.

The man's name was Karkat Vantas.

His life was shitty.

His "job" was shitty.

He felt shitty.

Her name was Terezi Pyrope.

And, with her boyfriend, she felt she could see pretty goddamn well for a blind person.

"Gamzee…God, calm down. Yeah, I got some new shit…fuck, I don't care. Uh…three. I guess."

Karkat hung up the phone and resumed staring at the ceiling.

"Lovely piss-yellow color." He remarked to himself, still inwardly battling whether to get up or not. He would have to, and soon, though, on the account that Gamzee would be there in thirty minutes for drugs. Over the phone, he had sounded pissed, tired, and anxious- his boyfriend had probably tried to get him to go cold-turkey again.

Karkat swore the day that happened, Hell would freeze over.

Stomach growling, the black haired boy rolled over onto his stomach and inched off the bed slowly and reluctantly. After his feet collided with the floor, he grumbled a minute to himself before getting up and tugging his pants on (grumpily), reaching into the closet and pulling on the first shirt he touched (grumpily), and walking into the kitchen for a sandwich (grumpily).

Heaven knows how one person could hold that much discontent, but alas, Karkat Vantas managed it.

The door slammed open.

"C'mon, motherfucker, show me what you got!" The tall, lanky man yelled, not caring about the neighbors, or anything, really, other than the fact that his dealer had "new, you got to try this" shit.

"You're ten minutes early."

"Hell if I care. You want my money?"

Karkat pushed his untouched lunch away and stood, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling he had become familiar with over the past few hours, and slinked into the bathroom and over to his shower, reaching for one of the empty shampoo bottles out of many, unscrewing the cap and upturning the bottle. Another bottle (of the pill variety) fell out into his hand, and he noted that he needed to remember to get a better hiding place.

As he did every time.

"Here." He offered the bottle to his friend- using that term loosely- and eyed the crumpled-up rolls of money in his hand.

"What's it called?"

"Slime."

"Original. Damage?"

"If you OD, it does freaky shit to your brain, but that's about it." So far. He thought to himself. It was a fairly new drug, and the side effects hadn't really been determined yet.

"Nice." Gamzee Makara shoved the piled of money towards Karkat, grin relaxing back into its usual self, instead of the stretched-thin one it had been moments before. Once the bottle was secured in his hand, he was out the door with a, "Bye, best friend!" Floating after him.

"Fuck you." Karkat yelled behind him, turning back to his unfinished sandwich.

"Well, fuck you too." The voice from the doorway startled him.

"Terezi?"

"Karkat?" She mocked, throwing her bag down and glaring at him.

"What?"

"You told me you'd cut it out."

He didn't play naïve anymore- because she was right. Empty promises had been made, regrets had been tucked away, and arguments had been had over this subject.

"Well, sorry I don't want to live in a cardboard box."

"This isn't how we paid the bills before." She stepped in farther and shut the door behind her.

Hastily scrambling to avoid the subject, he back tracked. "Were you spying on me?"

"Dear, some call it 'accidently hearing a conversation they shouldn't'. If that's what you mean, fuck yeah, I was spying on you being the regular ole' drug farm entrepreneur."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You want to keep going to law school, right?"

Her lips flattened into a thin line. "Yes." She ground out in between her teeth.

"Keep in mind, I pay the tuition."

"Fuck you, Karkat! That's a low blow, and you know it!"

"Well, fuckass, maybe if you got a job…"

"Is everything about money to you?"

"Well, honey, sorry if that doesn't float your boat."

"God, Karkat! I should…I don't have to put up with this shit!"

"If you're going, then go!" He yelled, stepping closer to her.

"Maybe I will!" She shouted, her fists clenching tightly at her sides.

And suddenly they were too close, much too close together, and his mouth was on hers. It was like they both had forgotten how to breath and the other person was oxygen, and it felt so good and clean and they loved each other and-

Suddenly, it wasn't like that. There were teeth, nails, and pressure, anger gluing them together so hard, neither thought they could pull away, even if they wanted to.

But neither wanted to.

Clothes were torn.

Shoes were kicked.

And curses were exchanged.

Later, when they were lying in bed, Terezi brushed her hand across a deep scratch mark on Karkat's back as her face deflated slowly.

"We did it again."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."