Nirvana Karkat x Reader (ch. 3)

Nirvana Karkat x Reader (ch. 3)

Six weeks had passed since you had spoken with Karkat. Six weeks of planning. Six weeks of sketching. Six weeks of hair-pulling, isolation, and sleep deprivation. Six weeks of fruitless labour. You hadn't progressed in your exhibition by any means, and it was starting to take its toll on your mind and body. The dark circles under your eyes had started to become glaringly obvious and stark in comparison to your paling, weary skin. Each step you would take down the hallway would be with great effort, and eventually you had stopped working anywhere but the comfort of your own bed, only wading through the pool of molasses in your mind to use the bathroom or to get a small cup of that horrid coffee, absconding the moment you had what you needed. You didn't even bother to sit in the same room as the others anymore. You hadn't accomplished anything yet, and as each day passed by that you would revert to your mattress empty-handed, your stress would increase accompanied by a feeling of hopelessness.

You awake in your bed on an early morning. Too early. You glance at the clock to your left and shudder in remorse. You shouldn't be awake at such an ungodly hour, you already didn't sleep enough normally. Yet as the minutes passed, you knew your mind was running much too rampant to allow you any further sleep.

Groaning, you kick off your covers and lazily slide your legs off of your bed. With a string of bated curses you trudge to your door and seek solace anywhere that would be willing to offer it. You aimlessly wander around the meteor’s corridors for you don’t know how long, but soon decide as your brain starts functioning normally that you should find a place to settle.  Of course, your body was still too tired to bother seeking out a specific room. Instead, you plop yourself down on the couch and cradle the remote to a cathode ray tube displaying device before turning it on and lazily flipping through the (somehow working?) channels. Yeah… that was definitely called a television. You questioned your mind’s overuse of pointless troll vernacular and terminology when television was clearly the logical choice between the two in terms of versatility and time.

As your subconscious deduces this information you quickly realize that it has no real relevance to this story, nor will it ever.

You don’t know how long exactly you had been watching the unfamiliar shows playing out in front of you, but it doesn't take long to realize that this is in no way helping your slight case of insomnia, despite how relaxing the soft buzzing from the machine seems to be. Sleep seems to be purposefully avoiding you now, and you can’t help but feel slightly betrayed by its absence.

You hear a small shuffling behind you and turn in time to see a hand rest on the back of the couch, followed by a troll casually and heavily placing his bum at your side to share the screen of the aforementioned displaying device.  

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Karkat asks you.

“It’s never really been one of my talents.” You mumble as you pull your leg up to your chest and continue watching the screen.

He snorts, but doesn't reply. For some reason, you’re not all that surprised that Karkat has trouble sleeping. He never really seemed like the guy who could just sleep all his problems away.

Neither of you say much after that, aside from the occasional snarky comment about whatever you’re watching and the responsive chuckle. The silence is awkward, and you wish you could say something to lighten the mood. Damn, you wish you were better at this. Ever since you had entered the game, you have become so much more introverted and your people skills are now dwindling to an unhealthy low. Even Karkat himself is probably more sociable than you at this point.

Sitting next to him now though, it certainly doesn't seem like it. You have the nagging feeling that both of you are painfully aware that talking about the subject of your first conversation is inevitable, but neither of you wants to bring it up. You know that both of you are thinking about it; the idea is almost tangible in the room.

You open your mouth first, but Karkat's words come before you even have a chance to speak.

“You know what I don’t get? I've been waking up at this hour so often lately it's fucking stupid, and every time I do you know what I'm I greeted with? The goddamned snores of the trigger happy fucks that live on this meteor. It's like nothing phases them, I could stick a sickle up their nooks and they'd still sleep soundly like a goddamned wriggler. Does none of this shit bother these people?? We're stranded on a fucking meteor floating in space and our planets and entire civilizations are destroyed and we've got a fucking DEMON after us trying to fuck up what little chances of winning we have in this gogdamned game!" His words seem to raise in volume and anger as his speech goes on and you wonder if you should stop him. You marvel at the fact that he hasn't woken anybody up yet.

You watch as the light from the television continuously licks at his face, illuminating his increasingly enraged features and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. 'Of course they're sleeping soundly,' you think. 'Their dreams are probably the only escape they have from the horrible world you just mentioned, Karkat. They need a release and they've found it in their dreams- as well as in each other.' You wonder guiltily if would be the same with you. Maybe if you found someone to share your thoughts with, you would be able to dream as well. You would be able to sleep instead of waking at unhealthy hours and wandering off to watch television when you should be recuperating. You instinctively think of Karkat due to his close proximity and immediately banish the thought for the sake of rationality. No, if you wanted to share your feelings with someone, you want it to be someone you care for and know well.

You realize you had spaced out in the few short moments it would take Karkat to notice you were watching him closely, and you blink in the surprise of taking in reality once again.

"You were either really fucking intent on listening to me or you were spacing out and missed the whole damn thing," he notices grumpily, and you chuckle a little.

"Only the last bit."

"Fucking..."

"Pfft. Sorry...?" He waves you off and eyes the screen again.

"Whatever. Hey, no, yeah, I'm used to it. Hell if I were anyone else I'd be fucking mortified of my rants too, they're pretty horrible. I've gotten in an argument with past me before, and it was a goddamned nightmare. Turns out I can't stand that guy either."

Karkat's neurotic tendencies aside, you find you actually kind of like him. He is definitely creative, no denying that. You ponder being able to get used to his colorful  humor- somehow, even though all he really seems to do is complain, he seems to lift your spirits somewhat.

He soon takes it upon himself to continue with a few long-winded rants lacing many subjects you know you probably won't remember afterward, and soon you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy. You know that several hours had passed since you left your room, and now you could even see Karkat fighting the sleep in his own eyes. Inevitably, it doesn't take long after his speech before he succumbs to sleep.

You look over at him. He looks so silly in his sleep. His head is lain back against the cushion, his mouth slightly ajar. His face is tilted ever so slightly in your direction, so if you look closely, you can see a small speck of drool lazing his mouth. 'Gross,' you think with a breathy laugh as you stand, careful not to arouse him. Before you retreat, you glance at his sleeping form once again. You know better than to pick him up and try taking him to his room- even if you did know which direction his room is in, the idea is absurd on so many levels. So no, you aren't going to move him. You could, however, gingerly throw a blanket onto his resting form in a sort of loving not-so-orderly manner.

So, deciding that is your best choice of action, you set off to search for a blanket.