two idiots and a turtle (a kotlc fanfic)

chapter four: in which bathrooms are a great place to think

a/n: wooo another chapter 

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keefe

I wave goodbye as Tam steps into the light, but he doesn't even bother looking back at me.

No, don't go into the light! Just kidding, I don't care if you die. Actually, maybe I do.

His body filters into small specks of light as he lightleaps away, and I'm left alone, standing in the empty foyer and staring up at the Leapmaster.

I'm hit by a sudden memory of me from a little while ago. It was probably when Father first asked me to move in here, actually. Me, staring up at this very same Leapmaster and shouting out random places. Not so I could go anywhere, just to hear the sound echo around. Ah, to be young again.

I fight the urge to go after him and keep him here for company - I'm so lonely and the silence is so nice - but instead opt for staring at the spot of light that had been reflected off his silver bangs.

I like the dark.

The dark is nice. It's quiet, since everyone else is quiet, too. Although sometimes, it's just as suffocating as it is when I'm out and about. Being dead must be nice, like eternal sleep. Nice and quiet. See, that's why I like Tam. Silent emotions. Maybe Tam's secretly dead.

I turn around and walk away from the foyer, heading through the near-silent halls of the Waves of Wimpiness.

I wonder where Father is. Worst case scenario - he's only sleeping. Best case - he's left me, just like Mother did.

I turn a corner and head for my room, pausing to absentmindedly pet Shelly on the head before attempting to run a hand through my hair, yet again. I wince at the sticky residue on my hand, casually attempting to wipe it off on my pants before I turn to look at my room.

Damn it, Tam, you left such a mess here, I frown as I reach for the inky-blue star chart on my desk, rolling it up and popping it back into a drawer. I reach for the pen next, pausing as I'm hit by a strange sense of deja vu.

Silver, silver, silver. Silver pen. Silver hair, silver eyes. Why am I thinking about Tam? This pen could be something he would like, maybe.

I casually toss it somewhere behind my desk before picking the pillows off the floor and putting them back on my bed with a sigh, and then flopping on top of it. I'm so tired.

Ugh, I'm such a mess.

Ro leans her armored torso through the doorway, the slanted light sparkling off the various piercings on her face. "Uh, Funkyhair? Your hair is pretty. . . funky right now."

I groan incoherently at her and roll off my bed, hitting the floor with a soft thud. She's right, honestly. My hair is disgusting right now. Everything is disgusting right now.

I'm so hungry. I wish I had eaten more at dinner. Stupid father - why do you have to be so mean and judgemental all the time? Why make a jab both at me and Tam? Stupid Tam. Why'd he have to ruin my mallowmelt? Ugh, I'm hungry.

Shelly trots over to me, staring me in the eyes. I can only hold her eye contact for a few moments before breaking away, staring off at the side.

Shelly steps closes and nudges me insistently. No, I don't want to get up.