Sharp pearly whites stood out against jet-black lips, the likes of which were curled into a greedy smirk.
"I know you're in here." The sneer was heard in her voice above the <i>clack clack</i> of her cane feeling along the floor. Her grin widened when she heard someone shifting in the corner of the room. "That's right. C'mon out.” Words were followed by her near-sinister giggle; the irregular cackle of a crazed woman.
"You know it's dangerous to be all up and walking around by yourself in this place, my teal-blooded hatemate." His scent filled her senses as she felt him approaching, and her grip tightened on her cane in anticipation. "Some motherfucker might find you that you don't wanna be found by."
"You're talking about Karkles, aren't you?" The devotion Gamzee had to his moirail was sweet, and in a platonic way she pitied them. "He doesn't know." This time, she heard a frown in his tone.
"Secret won't be kept for very long if you're all up and sneaking around. What about your ball and chain?"
"You mean Dave. He doesn't know, either." For as little as Dave knew the quadrants, she was pretty sure she'd get a high five for getting a little action on the side. And if not, she had bigger fish to fry. Metaphorically speaking. Her head snapped to the left as she felt Gamzee approach, and she reached out to touch him. He let her. "You're worried about Karkat, aren't you?" Gamzee didn't reply. "I don't know why." Her hand was grabbed suddenly and she gasped quietly in surprise, a soft sound of discomfort heard as it was gripped tightly.
"Because I care about my pale quadrant, sis." She felt his eyes on her. "Not like you could motherfucking understand." She felt and heard the bones in her hand protest, and she tried to wrench it away from him. He didn’t relent.
“What do you mean I couldn’t understand?” She may not have had her pale quadrant filled, but - she’d shared one with Karkat once, for a brief while. At the very least, it’s what she let him believe. “I care about him, too.” She twisted her hand again, giggling like she had been before. “Let me go.” He refused, instead squeezing tighter. It made her squeak in pain, but the glittering white slash of a toothy grin she wore remained fierce.
“I don’t think you all up and do, sis. Karbro means a lot to me and I don’t fuckin’ believe for one motherfuckin’ second you can all understand that.” Her fingers ached; the more she writhed the more pathetic she started to sound, and the more she felt her bones grieve under the stricture of his grip on her.
“Karkat means a lot to me.” Defending herself further, she realized, might net the both of them in more trouble than being right was worth. But it wasn’t fair of Gamzee to assume that because she was in this relationship with him, that she didn’t care for him. It irked her, bothered her beyond all belief. He twisted her arm suddenly and before she realized it it was behind her back, and she was pinned to the wall. Now, she allowed herself to be a teensy bit concerned, a teensy bit more vocal about just how much her bones were protesting the treatment. “Let me go.” Her repetition wavered, however, and was followed by a gasp of pain. Her brain scrambled for a way to get the upper hand again. Instinctively, she took a deep breath of air. Through her nose. Grin cracked again. Bingo.

“What’s so funny, sis?” He was nearly growling at her, and it just made her grin widen.
“You’re scared,” she observed in a quiet voice. It got quieter. <i>”Terrified.”</i> He froze next to her, and the smug look of satisfaction nestled onto her features. He spun her around.
“I ain’t scared of nothin’.”
“You’re a liar.” She tapped the side of her nose. “You forget. I can smell it on ya.” This time his growl was apparent and he wrenched her hand back, making her wrist snap with a sharp <i>crack</i>.

The Libra howled, feeling her knees weaken beneath her as pain tore through her. Managing to keep her feet, she laughed breathily. This time, Gamzee’s words were raspy and demanding.

“What’s so motherfucking FUNNY, sis?” He bent her fingers further, a sharp squeal piercing the room as she felt herself slowly moving to kneel. She couldn’t keep her feet any longer.
“K-Karkat,” she breathed, her free hand rising to fist into his shirt. It was a weak grip. Terezi was trembling. “You’re terrified of him f-finding out.” She took another whiff of him, the hand in his shirt falling to her side. Tiny tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, but she was too determined to be right; too determined to put this chucklefuck in his place to let them fall. “T-terrified <i>for</i> him.”
“Palebro’s got all his shit together.” But Gamzee didn’t sound sure of himself. “He don’t need no more stress.”
“You’re afraid he’ll never be happy.” Another surprised sound left her as his grip changed from her fingers to her broken wrist, and he slammed it against the wall behind her. Another long, pained howl followed. Her glasses toppled off from the startled jump, and she stared up at him with those cold, red eyes. Then, she whispered: “Am I wrong?”
“The motherfuck would you know about being happy.” He knelt down in front of her, about an inch from her face. He reeked, but her steadfast stare didn’t waver - even with the small pool of teal beneath each eye. “You ain’t got shit on Karbro, Pyrope.”
“You think he’s happy now?” she challenged, temper rising. “How many times have <i>you</i> seen him?” Eyes narrowed. “Does he even know where you are right now?” Pause. “He’s worried about you.”
“No he ain’t.”
“I pity you.” Gamzee snarled at her words, pressing her wrist harder into the wall. She gasped again.
“The motherfuck did you say?”
“I p-pity you.” Terezi scowled. “Not like that. But I guess I should say I pity Karkles.” A scent filled her nose suddenly; anger.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, sis.” His warning was shaky, and his free hand gripped the front of her shirt. “You don’t wanna say nothin’ you don’t mean.” Terezi licked her lips, tongue grazing the pointed edges of her teeth.
“He deserves a better moirail. That’s why I pity him.”

It took less than a second for Gamzee to grab her by the throat and pin her to the wall by her neck, slamming her head against it. Pricks of colours smattered her ‘vision’ for a moment as she was stunned in a small sensory overload.

“Stop talkin’.”
“N-now you’re... afraid I’ll take him from you.” Free hand gripped his wrist. “Afraid I’ll be... better at this whole pale thing than you.” Her cackle came with difficulty, but it was there. His hold on her throat tightened, cutting her laugh short.
“Stop. Motherfucking. Talking.”
“The poor troll deserves someone better than you. And you know it.” In a quick motion the Capricorn had her on her back, the back of her head scraping against the wall before it struck the ground. He straddled her midsection, fingers digging into her windpipe.
“You better take that back, sis.” His tone was dangerous, and it sent a chill through her - in addition to the pain that flowered from the back of her head and the increasing inability to breathe.
“I may be blind, Makara, but I can see right through you.” Her eyes glittered and he stared at her, unable to say anything in his awe. She was sassing him and she knew it, but was unwilling to change her attitude. He deserved it. For hiding from Karkat. Thinking he was doing the Cancer a favour by staying hidden. When in reality it was just hurting him more.
“You shut your motherfucking mouth before I motherfucking shut it for you.” His grip was shaking, and she grabbed his face in her hands. Nails dug in, creating indigo crescents where she broke skin. Her wrist hurt. She knew she’d need to do something about it. But for now, she was busy.
“Bring it on.” She giggled then, loudly and unnaturally, even with his grip tightening on her throat. When the sound tapered off as she lost all ability to breathe, she closed her eyes and raked her nails down his neck. He hissed in pain and she grinned, senses clouding over as she began to succumb to the lack of oxygen. It was okay. She could pass out. Even die. Sending Gamzee off with some biting food for thought was perfectly satisfying as a set of last words. But instead he bent down and kissed her; rough and invasive. She bit his tongue and tasted his blood in her mouth, smearing over her lips and cheeks. When he sat back up again it dripped onto her face and into her eyes, and he finally let go of her neck to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. She took in a deep breath, unwilling to let herself cough and seem weakened by the course of action.

“Indigo looks good on you, sis.” He still sounded angry, but he wasn’t choking her anymore.
“I swear to the Mothergrub if you say anything about it looking better in me I’ll never let you live it down.”
“How did you fucking know?”
“You’re so predictable, Gamzee.” He shifted, and she heard fabric crumple to the ground a few feet away. He’d torn his shirt off. Hands instantly inspected his torso, fingers counting his individual ribs before her nails dragged down his hips; bruising but not drawing blood. He pulled up her shirt to her neck, exposing her rumble spheres. But he did nothing after that; his hands resting on her hips as he stilled. The only sound she heard was his blood dripping from his mouth, hitting the zipper of her pants.

“I really don’t want Karbro all up and findin’ out, sis.” The sincerity and, dare she say it, even fear in his voice was as alarming as it was touching.
“Then get off me so I can go comfort him. Because we both know you won’t.” His hands were on her again, claws digging into her sides. She squealed in pain, back arching a little. She wiggled a little in an attempt to throw him off. It obviously didn’t work.
“You just all up and keep talkin’ like that, sister. I got plenty’a rage in here just for you.” She was getting to him. It made her smile again. Though, Terezi wasn’t really sure why she was so intent on upsetting him about Karkat so much. While she didn’t necessarily want a quadrant with Karkat, she definitely wanted the best for him. Gamzee being his moirail and never being around, sneaking off to have a blackrom with someone he had previous interest in - that wasn’t best for him. She just... wanted Gamzee to see that. It was only fair to put him through as much pain as Karkat was. And if she could let the clown vent some of his rage on her, maybe then he’d deem himself worthy enough to go find his moirail. She grinned up at him, her own nails gripping into his thighs.
<i>”Show me.”</i>

He didn’t hesitate; lifting his hips to tear her pants off as well as pull down his own; this fact known as a bitter smell filled her senses - a dark indigo stench of anger and hatred.