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He's a scowling little rat, he's a small little creature that hisses and writhes and scratches you on the face. He's a soldier, he's an accountant, he's no one important. He'll never be anyone important, it doesn't matter if he sobs and begs and kneels for people who do not care for him, he'll never be anyone important and he can't handle that. He can't handle the idea of being an inconsequential like everyone else.
“We all die, y’know? No point in being chaste about it. We crawl outta our mother's fuckhole, waste some time doin’ nothing important and then we die. ‘S not bad.”
Karl glared at the American so hard it probably took effort. His hands clenched at his sides, and yet he didn't tackle, not yet. Like a wolfhound nearly strangling itself on the collar that was dignity.
All he managed was to smack him on the back of the head hard enough to knock the air out of him, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He sighed.
“It matters. I'm tired of worthless pessimists like you saying it doesn't, it does! At least for a moment. A very important moment, and if you do your job well enough, a very long moment! We still remember Julius Caesar even though he's nothing more than dust and dirt now!”
He signaled hopelessly like vague gestures of exasperation could drive home his point. The American just raised an eyebrow at him. He looked him up and down, from muddy shoes to scarcely tangled hair and chuckled, shaking his head.
“Whatever y’want to believe. It's not like it matters.”
He patted the wet weasel of a man on the back and definitely felt his spine. It was astonishing, really! Such a man thinking life would spare him a chance. He literally stumbled! But the bastard regained his footing and glared further, honestly he almost seemed like he wanted to kill the Yankee.
“Did you even listen to what I said?! Did you?!”
He looked more like an emaciated, hissing cat rather than a man, he looked like his rightest state was trembling in an alleyway, he looked like he'd never felt loving touch that carried genuine love, he looked like he curled up in the corner of his bed at night with his joints against his sternum and his skull against his knees even on a good day.
“No actually, can ye repeat?”
It wasn't like it hadn't gone through his ears with the weasel’s grating tone. It wasn't like he'd heard his wish for transcendence in an existence that couldn't achieve it and he hadn't had to listen. But he liked taunting him. There was nothing worth it going on, nothing that interested him lately and there was this little creature talking about things he wouldn't achieve. It was funny.
Then he got punched in the face and that kind of hurt.
Karl is the type of guy you remember with spite the first time, with ambivalence the fifth, with empathy the twelfth and with endearment the sixteenth. Karl is the guy that you have to lure in like a stray cat with polite conversation and a listening ear but he's just as tender once you get him inside. Karl might not want you in his ambitions but he'll grudgingly let you stay, and then he'll plead for you to stay. Karl won't exactly offer a shoulder to cry on but at least he'll pay you on the back uncomfortably and stand there until you get your shit together. Karl doesn't like dogs, he says they're gross. Karl doesn't like cats, he says they're mean. Karl doesn't like rats, he says they're venomous. Venomous, he means poisonous but if you correct him he'll be in a pissy mood the rest of the day. Karl doesn't know what a weasel is. Karl doesn't like water. Karl doesn't like many things, actually, not even himself too much. Karl likes tea in the morning when it's cold and in the night when it's cold. He doesn't like biscuits or sweets or anything but he does like tea. He gets all excited about it, he spends money on nicer blends. Karl probably smokes, his voice is a little raspy.
“Of course I think Alighieri is important, but his works are simply overrated! They're all so... so… eugh. I mean all he does is talk about how so and so is so amazing and so and so is whatever, and why would Judas be in hell?! Jesus was going to die anyways, there is no reason to punish Judas for it! He just didn't think things through, he was greedy and then he messed up and somehow he's in the lowest ring of hell? I mean, the poor man literally hung himself! I think suicide is a sin because Catholics are still petty over a man that died centuries back! It's just gross. Gross and idiotic! Completely idiotic! They're all idiots. Everyone is an idiot, absolutely everyone. Well. Not you, you're not one of them, but you already know that, right? I say that a lot. But I do want you to know you're not like most people. You're very special to me.”
He looked at the American with a gentle smile in his aquiline features, eyebrows raised and his shoulders sloped. Karl didn't like birds but he didn't seem to mind the noise they made. He didn't seem to mind the crickets or the frogs or sitting on a dock at 6:45 PM in the middle of nowhere because his dearest friend was right beside him and that's all that mattered for the next 25 minutes and 1 hour. He sighed, took another swig of cheap whiskey straight from a shared bottle and he smiled back at Karl with a fondness that shouldn't be there.
“You're important to me too.”
“I am?”
“Mhmm.”
“Say it again, will you?”
Karl is very important.
Karl is the most important thing in his life.
Karl is the only person he'll ever love this way.
Karl is the only person who'll ever love him this way.
Karl is worth it.
Karl is someone who means a lot to him.
Karl is someone who loves him.
Karl is the only thing that matters.
Karl is the only one who loves him.
“Darling?”
Karl shifted to face him, the pale blue that faded into cobalt In thin, bounding streams like a flowing current by the east of his iris reflected the dim light of the moon past a half closed window. Karl liked the room being cold, he preferred the cold over anything because it was nicer to be near to someone that way. Karl didn't like being alone, but he didn't like having people too close until he knew them well and Karl knew him very, very well. Karl knew everything about him the same way he knew everything about him and he could be very sure of that.
“Mhm?”
He pushed himself up, bedsheets sliding off his chest down to his waist. He had been awake for little over 15 minutes now. He couldn't sleep today for some reason. But Karl was there, he had been curled up against him just as awake as he was but he had a reason for it. Karl thought about a lot of things, anyway. Karl was always thinking, talking, doing, but he always had time for him and he couldn't be anything but thankful for it.
“You do love me, right?”
Karl asked that often and nobody could blame him, he'd had a hard life, he hadn't been loved nearly enough, Karl just needed someone to say they did every once in a while.
Karl didn't move but he did look up at him so adoringly, so kindly, so lovingly. He was only perceived correctly in Karl's eyes, if Karl said he was something then that was what he was.
“‘Course I do. I really do.”
Karl looked away for a moment, his eyes lidded slightly while he thought. His hand reached for Karl's face, gently turning it to face him once again for another moment of his eyes on him. His brows, beautifully thin, furrowed just slightly, causing a small crease in smooth pale skin, marred by a small junctional mole a little below his left eye, currently partially covered by silky strands of raven hair falling over his face, which he tenderly pushed away.
“You're very sure about that?”
“More sure than anything.”
Karl closed his eyes and sighed, taking hold of his hand on his cheek, slender fingers running down his forearm to his wrist to take hold of his hand without removing it.
“Mhh. Could you stop paying so much attention to her?”
He opened his eyes partially again, looking up at him past his short eyelashes, straight at the beginning but curled by the end. He hadn't felt like he was putting anyone over anyone, but maybe Karl had seen something he hadn't in his interactions. Karl saw a lot of things, Karl observed everything, Karl would know.
“It's just… I don't like the way she looks at you. She knows you're with someone, even if she doesn't know who… I doubt she'd care, though. Spreads her legs for anyone she fancies.”
Karl's eyes narrowed. The mere thought of that woman just irked him. He hadn't seen her being that bad… but once again, Karl probably knew better.
“Ugh.”
Karl leaned back, his neck arching against the pillow and since he had removed his face, Karl's fingers curled around his own. He wasn't feeling alright, was he? Another day that wouldn't turn out as it should, but that was alright. It was over. They'd fix it, like they always did. Like Karl always did.
“I'm sorry. Just— You know how it is…”
“I know. Don't apologize for nothin', sweetheart. I'll be more careful with her, yeah?”
“That'd be nice. Thanks.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Everyone's an idiot, aren't they? Idiots, sluts, pessimists… except you and I. That's why I like you so much. You're not like anyone else. We match, we only match with each other. You and I against the world.”
“I love you.”