You watch him as he lopes over to the door and lets himself out. He’ll be back later. He’s like mould, he just keeps creeping back.
TEREZI: WHO W4S TH4T?
You don’t want to tell her you’ve somehow gained a homeless clown as a roommate, so you subtly change the conversational topic.
KARKAT: THIS IS MY APARTMENT, I ASK THE QUESTIONS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
You come out of the bathroom smelling minty fresh and are greeted by a very familiar snigger.
You know that snigger. That snigger is an old friend to you. You sometimes dream of it.
It belongs to a girl that you used to dream a lot about, until she broke your thirteen year old heart.
You got over it, though, and managed to become friends. You’re not entirely sure that was a good thing.
TEREZI: H3Y, K4RK4T
KARKAT: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
TEREZI: WHO4, RUD3. 1S TH4T 4NY W4Y TO TR34T A GU3ST?
GAMZEE: Do YoU wAnT sOmEtHiNg To MoThErFuCkInG dRiNk, SiStEr?
KARKAT: OKAY, YOU, GET OUT.
You hear someone knocking at the door of your apartment, and you shout at the creepy clown guy who sometimes crashes at your place to open the door for you.
Normally you’d just scream at him to get out of your apartment, but you’re in too much of a rush to care about him much now.
To your surprise, he really does go to open the door for you.
You hear him drawling something to whoever’s there, and you try to tune into the reply but it’s lost to the sound of the water gushing out of the faucet as you furiously brush your molars.
Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, and you are a twenty three year old human. You’re not really sure why you specified human there, since you’re not sure what else you could have been.
You would love to make a mental list of all your hobbies and interests, but right now you’re pretty rushed and that would take up valuable mental space that is currently devoted to trying to brush your teeth and put on your trousers at the same time.
You are going to be late for work, you know it, and you remember with distinct clarity the last time you trudged in late to work and Jade told you that the next time it happened you were fired. You’re not sure why, since nobody ever wants to buy comic books at nine in the morning. You have told her this many times, but she just tells you that if you stopped staying up until two in the morning pretending to be an internet tough guy you’d have no trouble getting up.
You steadfastly don’t acknowledge that she maybe possibly has somewhat of a point.