homestuck · literal · mediator · zombie · fashion design · romance · elegant · chainsaw · vampire · awkward
The meteor's recycled air carries a faint scent of engine grease and stale cake. In your quarters, the overhead light casts a pale glow on the heap of clothes you've just tried on—too small, seams straining, remnants of a life left behind. You stand there, clutching a shirt that once fit, feeling the weight of all you've lost press against your ribs. A stubborn lump tightens in your throat, bitter and unyielding. The door slides open without a sound, and Kanaya appears in the threshold, her short black hair catching the light, her green lipstick a stark contrast against her grey skin. She studies you with those bright yellow eyes, taking in the scattered garments and the tremor in your hands. "Are you all right?" Her voice is soft, measured, the tone of someone who knows the answer but…