Hello lovlies! So sorry I haven't been on here and writing for so long; I've been having some personal problems. This story as well probably won't be updated often, but I will try my best to put up a chapter at least once a week. So yeah, another sadstuck; what else would you expect from me anyways?

Reviews/follows/favorites are nice as always.

Have a wonderful morning/day/afternoon/evening, loves!

~Sollux POV~

You spit on the street coldly. It comes out tinted pink, slightly off the red that is actually in your mouth. You can taste the metallic tang, and the cold air stings against your warm skin. Trying desperately for warmth, you wrap your shirt tighter to your chest and pull your arms in more into the short sleeves. Without warning, you've been kicked out again. This time, there wasn't even yelling outside of your door, no slamming against it, no bottles smashing on the floor. There was was no time to prepare yourself for the long night that would be ahead of you, and now you were trudging along the street in the bitter cold with only a tee shirt and some jeans. You had barely even been able to put on your glasses.

You look up; somehow, you had wandered into a sort of wealthy neighborhood. There are lines and lines of large, expensive houses. Most of them are painted blues, tans, light greens, pretty pastels that make you feel sick. For these people, life is perfect. For these people, nothing is impossible. They have everything they could ever want, and they don't even have to try. You spit again, and this time it comes out clearer, but still tinted. Sighing, you look up at the clouds and see that they are dark, churning, about to storm.

Oh, how wonderful. Now it's going to rain as well.

You walk faster, hoping to find a house with some sort of open window or door that isn't locked so you can stay for the night. There's no way you can get back to your neighborhood in the dark like this, much less your own house. Besides, even if you could you know you would just get thrown out again. Finally, you stumble upon a house painted deep purple with a fuchsia trim. Odd colors, but looking through the cracks in the fence you can see a door leading to what must be some sort of basement door slightly open. Scaling the fence, you drop down into the yard.

Sneaking through the grass and dirt, you slip through the door and shut it behind you with a small click. You were right, this is a basement; but no way it's a small one. The Entirety of it is the size of your apartment times 3. There is a huge flatscreen TV that sits in front of a couch twice the size of your bed. The carpet is soft and you take your shoes off before wandering farther in. There's a granite bar sitting over a tiled section, completed with a full kitchen behind it. There are shelves and shelves of video games, consoles, pillows, games, controllers, basically everything a boy your age could want. There's a small door that leads into a bathroom that you walk in, complete with a jacuzzi tub and a flat screen tilted toward it. The entire bathroom is huge. There's a connecting door on the wall, and you press the handle slowly, cautiously.

Behind it, there is a boy. He's wearing these really tight, striped pants that almost look like leggings and combat boots. He also has a black shirt on, and his hair is so slicked back into some sort of pompadour you can't believe it's not falling over with it's weight. He turns around and you can see he has glasses on, those hipster ones, and he's holding a small, steaming cup of what you assume is some sort of cappuccino. He opens his mouth to shout, but before he can you are across the room and holding that bastard's mouth closed with your hand. You move your body quickly so you are behind him, holding his head in some sort of headlock so he can't move away from you. You put your mouth close to his ear and whisper;

"I'm not here to hurt you, but if I need to I will. Do you understand?" He nods and you slowly slip your hand off of his mouth, his neck, and move away from him.

The second you are away, you sit on his bed and he scans you over. You understand that you must look like shit, what with blood in your mouth and whatever other cuts and bruises you may have from your father and/or yourself. You rub your hand against your mouth and look at it. It comes off red, smeared with saliva and blood.

He starts to speak, not even seemingly afraid that there is a strange person who just broke into his house.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out."

You sigh, slinking out of the room and out the door. Scaling the fence again, it starts to rain. You shiver in the cold water and air. You run down the street, this time not necessarily looking for a house, but shelter from the rain. Eventually the houses thin out and you come to a school of some sorts. You run around it, checking the doors, but everything is locked securely. Sighing, you settle for an overhang that goes over a back door which you assume is for the trash people and janitors. No one should be here in the early morning, usually people use doors like these only at night.

You lean against the wall and slink down, pulling your hands all the way into your shirt. Sure, it seems like a childish thing to do, but when you actually think about it, it's actually a practical method for staying warm. All of your body heat is condensed in one place, and when you pull your knees in it makes things even closer. The closer, the warmer.

You close your eyes, trying to block out the world. Your home. Everything that's happened all day. Maybe if you just close your eyes, you can sleep and let the world drift away from your fucking life.

Anything but your fucking life….