Space nights, empty hearts

Keith rolled over, a scowl curling his lips. His eyes fluttered open - fully alert from not even pretending to sleep tonight. His room was dark, pitch black. It always was, late at night. He set the lights to be this way. Well, he assumed it was night - there wasn't exactly a sun and moon to judge time by, so the group was mostly relying on the schedule Allura made for training.

Thinking of his schedule led to thoughts of the group, reminding him why he was truly awake. He'd never had insomnia, nor any other reason to be awake. It wasn't anything like that. It was that, in the darkness, Keith was left with his own thoughts - no bot or enemy to fight or conversation to carry, except for the ones he thinks up himself. When left alone, it was natural that his thoughts would wander. Some nights, they just wandered too far. His chest would begin to ache, like he had a hole missing in his middle. He got restless, fidgety, snapped awake no matter the time. So he lay, letting waves of loneliness wash over him as he thought of the cold of his room, the warmth of his bed coming only from him as his throat clogged and limbs became heavy with an invisible weight.

At first, he went back to the training deck on nights like these. Fought to tire himself out, then passed out in his bed until morning. But Coran caught him once, so he stopped. He didn't do anything at all, in fact, for a few weeks after. It only made it worse.

So he thought of who he could ask for help. Of course, he first thought of Shiro - a comforting figure who he knew he shouldn't be shy of asking. But it just didn't feel right. They'd been apart for so long. Allura was...not preferable. Turning his thoughts to Coran, regardless of previous incidents, made him a little sick, so those three were out. He thought of Pidge, who he knew would still be up anyway - they always were, bad for their health as it may be. However, he once again couldn't see himself asking them, so he decided against it. That left Hunk. Keith knew, from watching others, or stories from Pidge, or from hugs he'd experienced himself, that Hunk would be good at cuddling. One could tell just from looking at Hunk, for god's sake. Still, his arms didn't move.

His legs weren't kicking off his sheets, his feet weren't tapping the cold tile as he walked to his door. Instead, he was still in bed, movements akin to that of a statue.

And so, his mind continued to wander.

He thought of the last paladin aboard the castle, much as he tried not to. Lance McClain.

Just the thought of his name began a low simmer in his blood, a knotting in his muscles. The rivalry between himself and Lance came from unknown origins - unknown to Keith,  at the least. He speculated it to be related to the Garrison, but couldn't be sure. He wasn't exactly very aware of the blue paladin during his time there, so there wasn't anything he could pinpoint even as a possibility.

Not that he was there for long, anyway.

But, the last of the castle's crew, the boy stuck in Keith's mind until the simmer turned into a thrum. This, he told himself, is what caused Keith to get out of bed. This took him into the hallway. This, without a doubt, is what brought his hand up to rap on the paladin's door, to meet his bleary eyes when it slid open, and to not run away when he asked what was going on.

"Mm'Keith?" The boy slurred, leaning against his door frame with sleepy eyes, a t-shirt and sweatpants combo, and ruffled hair. Behind him, Keith saw soft light coming from the corners of his room to give it a dreamlike glow. Lance was not wearing a face mask tonight, Keith also noted, adding to his drowsy appearance. It was almost cute.

Almost, Keith repeated.

"...uh, hey, Lance." Keith replied, mouth suddenly dry and arm reaching up to anxiously wring his neck. Blue light from the castle corridor walls illuminated the two as lance became more alert.