HS: JohnVriska 11

"Huh?" You look up from your bowl of half-eaten cereal, mouth slack. Last night, you didn't sleep easily and when you were able to go unconscious, you were tormented with bad dreams. They were the kind that had nothing to do with anything that was going on in your life but were definitely caused by the turmoil you seem to be experiencing during your waking hours.

"I said I'm going to be ordering a new bed, today. It'll probably take like, 5 business days to get here, so you'll finally have your bed back, soon!" he smiles cheerfully at you and you bite back the urge to hit him just so he can feel as miserable as you do.

"Okay..." You go back to spooning your cereal and he doesn't speak for the rest of breakfast.

You spend the day at work, doing things mechanically. Sollux constantly gets on your case about not smiling or being friendly to the customers but he notices that you're not being your usual, snarky self. He gets you on shelving duty again and you, like always, are thankful for that. You lose box cutter privileges, though.

When you get home, you flop on the couch and turn the TV on just so you have the illusion of doing something. John gets home an hour later and finds you passed out with the news flashing in the background. You stir a little when he moves your feet so he can sit down. He places them back on his lap and you are suddenly very much awake but you won't reveal this to him. A cold sweat starts to build as you are far too aware of him and his hand resting on your ankle.

Why are you doing this to me, you're fucking sadistic…

He nudges your shoulder and coos your name after a while and you pretend to wake up groggily. He tells you that he's going to karaoke night at the local bar with people and wants to know if you wouldn't mind joining them. You say yes, but only because you don't want to be alone with your thoughts anymore.

Just like the time when you were invited to go to the club with the gang, they pick you up in the van and John sits next to you and you now refuse to trust a single ounce of anything he does. He is too contradicting and it pisses you off. Your hopes are constantly getting thrown up and down and sideways and turnways and you are sick of it. You opt to staring out the window and ignoring everyone, even the ones who ask you how your day was.

When you get there, everyone is a twitter over what songs they're going to sing and who sings well and who shouldn't even bother getting on stage. You make note that Dave is nowhere to be found and John looks a lot less pensive than he did a few weeks back when they were invited to an outing like this. He doesn't look pensive at all; in fact he looks overjoyed and just happy with life. You are so very envious.

Because you find nothing interesting about anyone who is there except John, you spend most of the night sitting at a table and just watching everyone. Sollux talks Tavros into singing a song with him and Tavros actually does it. Nepeta cheers the loudest and it makes you sick.

You roll your eyes more than you've ever done before in a single night and everything is dull and colorless and now, you just would rather be home bathing in your own muck rather than putting up with all these dipshits as they have a great time with the only other being you care about that isn't yourself.

"Are you gonna get up there?" John sits next to you, huffing after belting out a Journey song with the rest of the group. Your gaze lazily falls upon his face and you make no move to answer him. He gets the hint and turns back to the stage as some elderly woman sings Etta James.

This awkward silence doesn't last long because John has no idea what tact entails. He drums on his thighs and asks again.

"No, John. I really do not want to get up there and humiliate myself in front of a bunch of drunken strangers."

"Aawww, are you sure? It's a lot of fun! And, I mean, everyone's embarrassing themselves. I got up there and I'm tone-deaf!" He laughs and it's so fucking cute and you hate him for it.

You glare out at the rest of the small bar and John's face falls. He stares out with you before blinking and turning back to you with that same damn smile he gives everyone else. "That's a shame. You sing really well, I think..." Your head snaps in his direction and he's avoiding eye contact, like he's embarrassed or some shit.

You don't say anything and he waits before getting impatient and opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by standing up abruptly and walking over to the song selection. You hear him hoot at you as you walk away and you fight back the tint that is threatening to stain your cheeks.

There are very few things that Vriska Serket is not good at. Singing is one of them. But the compliment John had given you is a little inspiring and what if it helps win him over? You can be like a siren and sing his ship over to your jutting rocks. Something about that makes you feel slightly less like a hornses ass. It reminds you of how you used to be before hurricane John came into your life and thrashed it all around. The thought is almost calming, but then you see the booklet of songs available to sing and that nice feeling is gone again in a flash.

After flipping through the song list, you find one that you never would have expected to be in karaoke form. You figure it's because this is a hipster college town and you're in a tiny, dark bar where everyone's drinking pbr and smoking cloves and now, it's not so strange that they would have St. Vincent's music for karaoke.

You punch the number in and walk up onto the stage. People clap and holler and to your much chagrin, John is sitting in the back at the table you had been recently glued to all night with his arms and legs crossed looking as smug as a motherfucker. You grip the microphone to release some of the pent up rage. What if you just beamed him with this microphone? What if…?

You will see if that face lasts after he hears the song.

At first, your singing is almost too soft to hear properly and someone is already booing you but John is quick to hush them up and everyone else from your group follows. It throws you off your game for a few lyrics but then you're back and obviously, holding back on the volume of your voice isn't going to work in your favor. You sing slightly louder and some people clap, which is encouraging.

"Marry me, John. Marry me, John I'll be so sweet to you. You won't realize I'm gone. You won't realize I'm gone."

As you sing, you stare him right in the eyes and he seems transfixed but that could very well just be your imagination. His expression, even if it's hard to see from up on the stage, seems blank and you can't read it and that drives you crazy, so you just focus on singing this and hope it's obvious enough that he understands just how turbulent he has made your life.

"Oh, John c'mon we'll do what married people do. Oh, John c'mon we'll do what Mary and Joseph did without the kid."

Whistles come from the small group of friends (you will call them friends, you guess) and the fact that John wasn't one of them makes your blood run cold and your voice shaky. By the time you finish up the song, you are briskly walking off stage and towards the bathroom. You need to hide your face and humiliation and tears as your emotions get the best of you again. It is like they have been belted by gamma rays and are now too strong for you to control. You have been overpowered by them more often lately, and it's really starting to wear you down.

In your haste, you fail to notice you're being followed until it is too late and he has you cornered right outside of the lady's room at the end of the dark hallway where no one can see you. You want to scream but you are too shaken up to do it and your eyes dilate and your breathing hitches and you begin to struggle until a soft hand claps over your mouth and you are pressed against the wall. At the edge of your mind, you comment on the probability that this wall is as sticky and gross as the floor.

"Sshh... it's me." He whispers in your ear and it gives you chills but you're not sure if they're the good kind or the bad kind.

John pulls his hand from your mouth and you almost miss the heat from it. He places his hands on both of your wrists and pins them to the wall. You have no idea how to act or what to say or what is even going on so you just cautiously watch him and wait for something to happen. When it does, you melt completely into him. You are so weak.

His lips are hot on yours and his body is heavy and the wall hurts your back. There are so many sensations, you are overwhelmed and focusing on just one is hard enough without the others overpowering each other.

He mouths at you and laps at your lips and you shudder again before sticking out your own tongue and closing the gap between the two of you again. There are no words to describe the things his body is doing to yours and you're so sick of feeling out of control and completely under his influence.

You break away and his leg slips in between yours and his head rests on the crook of your neck. You bump your head on the wall and glare up at the ceiling. You didn't deserve to be thrown around like this and you are bitter and your don't know who you curse for this whole mess, but you curse anyway and it was probably out loud because John's heavy breathing stops and his mouth his on your ear, nipping and sucking on it and your world goes white.

"Vriska..." He moans it like he's about to start sobbing and your heart aches. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

You stop all movement and as fast as he was on you, he's off and you are left in the dark corner blinking and completely at a loss for words. His touch lingers and you go into the bathroom to wash it all off and stare at yourself in the mirror. You will not get your hopes up this time. You will never expect this to happen again. That was the last time until he mans up and tells you what the hell his deal is.

The tears come a second time and you hate yourself for not having a thicker wall to hide behind.