Vriska Serket stood in front of John Egbert.
At that moment, her thoughts were the purest they’d ever been. Her mind wasn’t the least bit calm, but it was virginal. Her thinkpan was filled with anxiety and thoughts of the boy in front of her. It raced, matching her heart in time.
John was different in person. He was older than how she remembered seeing him that one time he didn’t remember her. His eyes were a vibrant, crystalline blue. You’d think his glasses would dull them but they didn’t. They sparkled with life, innocence, and such bravery that Vriska had never seen. He was thin, gangley, and awkward in his adolescent body but, God, it was the most perfect sight.
At the current moment he wore no smile. Vriska noted John’s mouth, how his pink lips appeared so soft as they were slightly parted. His teeth almost filled the space between those lips. She almost wanted to laugh at it for the sole reason that he was… yes, the most perfect sight.
Vriska considered him the most ethereal combination of handsome and precious in all of paradox space. Nic Cage was old, crusted, sopor slime on the bottom of her sneaker in comparison to John Egbert.
She couldn’t recall how many minutes they’d stood there staring at one another. She wasn’t paying attention to the other humans and trolls around them, staring at them in anticipation. She couldn’t even see them. Vriska was suffering from the most beautiful form of tunnel vision.
What she was feeling, what was rushing through her veins… it wasn’t pity. She felt devotion, of course, but nothing like pity. John Egbert didn’t need her pity. Vriska swallowed. This emotion was new. It was strong. It weighed her down but made her feel weightless all at once. Her legs felt wobbly, she felt woozy. Something in her stomach was whirring, tickling her. It was the most glorious nausea.
Humans… they called this being in love. How could their one, simple quadrant feel so overwhelming? It just about brought Vriska to her jelly-like knees. She felt as if her entire life depended on him loving her back.
She spoke, not taking her eyes off of his. Her voice wasn’t confident and filled with mischief as it usually was. It was weak, shaken… hopeful.
“Do you… remember me?” she asked. It was loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that the others couldn’t quite make it out. If they did, they wouldn’t understand anyway.
It was then that Vriska Serket’s eyes welled with her blueberry colored tears. They overflowed, spilling immediately. She didn’t remember the last time she cried, especially tears such as these. She never cried this way. Not once.
The tears that dropped were that of joy.
As she was collected in John’s long, thin arms a peaceful smile spread across her face. Her sobs were small bursts that sounded almost like the happiest of laughs. Vriska clung to him, taking in everything there was to take in. The warmth of his body, his smell — which was fresh, like a cool breeze on a spring morning, how each individual finger felt on her back in this embrace, how his forehead rested in her hair — careful of her horns.
Vriska Serket had been remembered.
Vriska Serket belongs to Andrew Hussie.
Do You Remem8er Me belongs to the Homestuck Music Team.
The art belongs to the lovely artist.
The voice and narrative was supplied by myself.
i just thought i’d slide this in here in lieu of recent updates.