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“Seriously, Kanaya, how long is this going to take?”
“Please be patient, Karkat, I am almost done.”
You groan, barely resisting the urge to flinch away from the needles she's poking through your trousers. You make do by tapping your foot slightly, the most movement you'll allow yourself in case the pins come loose and you have to do this again.
The things you do for pity.
Fucking finally, Kanaya steps back and gives you a quick once-over, taking notes without looking like a pro. You stand by your statement that, had the universe not decided to give up on ever being anything useful and succumbed to its inevitable heat-death, your moirail would've ended up a professional designnihilator.
“This will do for now. You can take those off, now. Be careful of the pins, I need them for the adjustments.” She drums her fingers against the table, nodding to herself and vaguely smiling.
“Thank fuck.” You mumble, carefully unbuttoning the tacky dress pants Kanaya always uses to take measurements. She has the decency to turn away as you step out of the atrocious trousers and into your much more comfortable sweats. Thankfully she's not refitting your entire wardrobe – again – so you've been allowed to keep your sweater on, so there's something.
You clear your throat when you're done changing, and Kanaya turns around, still smiling that proud little smile she always gets when she's had a great idea. If you were in the business of being honest with yourself, you'd say that it gives you a pleasant tickle in your pity humours whenever you see her smile like that, but you're not, so you loudly tell her to wipe that smug grin off her face.
“I have no idea what you are referring to, Karkat.” She smiles wider, raising one eyebrow as if daring you to comment on it again.
You decide against it, opting instead to grab two handfuls of your sweater and follow her to her hulking pile of off-cuts and fabric samples. You make the conscious decision to sit higher than her, so that she can't stare down her nose at you like she loves to do.
“Thank you for agreeing to model for me, Karkat. It is very helpful to have someone to test these new designs on.
“I knew you just wanted me for my body.”
You're greatly satisfied by the laugh that she tries to choke back, so much so that you willingly lean against her when she wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against her side.
“It does mean a lot to me, though. Even Rose is somewhat averse to the concept of modelling for me.”
“Rose Lalonde, a prude? Never.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at your lips.
“Karkat, that is rude.” She flicks your horn lightly, just enough to start a soft buzzing at the back of your head. “I'm sure Rose has her reasons. I was simply reiterating that your assistance has been extremely helpful thus far.”
“Yeah, well. It's the least I can do after this whole fiasco.” You shake your head and smile half-heartedly.
“Karkat, you can't blame yourself for that. If anything, I am the one at fault for that particular event.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing. I was just there fucking around with frogs and shi-.”
There's a gentle hand on your horn, softly kneading the hard chitin in a short circle. You practically melt into her touch, collapsing fully into her side as she rubs at your horn methodically.
“I apologise for not warning you, Karkat, but that train of thought is not healthy by any means.” Kanaya wraps one arm around your chest, pulling you practically into her lap, still massaging your horn with the other. “I understand that it takes time to learn new habits, but reverting back to these old mannerisms is counter-productive and harmful.”
Your voice is embarrassingly shaky when you finally speak, and far too soft for your liking. “I know, Kanaya. Sorry for making this about me.”
“Nonsense. If it needs to be about you, then I see no reason for it not to be.”
You sigh, leaning back into her. “Can it not be? Can this be about you instead?”
“If you want. I admit there are a few things I would like to get off my chest.”
There is something very calming about immersing yourself in someone else's problems. You can lose yourself in Kanaya's life, pretend that the most important thing in the world is her childish crush on Rose and the inherent paranoia of your ex-moirail being loose in the meteor's ventilation system, instead of the fact that you gave an innocent universe space-cancer.
Eventually she runs out of things to say, and the two of you lapse into a heavy, comfortable silence. Sometime during the conversation she draped a particularly large swatch of fabric over the two of you, and you run the hem between your fingers slowly, absorbed in the feeling of the material on your skin.
“Thank you for listening to me, Karkat. I understand my issues may seem mundane, but it means a lot to me that you would listen to them.”
“Your problems aren't unimportant just because someone else went through worse.” You reach up behind you and pap her weakly, hoping that it carries your point. “At least you're worried about something rational.”
She chuckles at that, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it gently. “I suppose so. Still, I have blathered on for a while. I apologise for taking up so much of your time.”
You shrug, feeling the action shift the heavy material of her blouse. “I wasn't doing anything today. Listening to you is a whole lot better than lying alone and wallowing in my own self-deprecating whirlpool.”
The short, stilted laugh that catches on her lips is a testament to how depressing that thought is. She holds you a little tighter, pulls you a little closer, and you're thankful for it in the moment.
You don't know how much longer you stay there, but your next memory is Kanaya's slow, gentle breaths and the familiar warmth of her arms around you.