Langst : Fake

Chapter 2

~⚠️TW⚠️ SELF HARMING MENTIONED AND DONE, READ AT YOUR OWN SAFETY!!~
-please be careful with this chapter, if you have depression this could aggravate it, take care of yourselves cuties 🥺

26

he didn't care that his clothes were getting wet, or that he would probably catch a cold.

he couldn't care less.

he swam to the bottom, surprisingly the water was warm.

he swam along the bottom, like a fish

he swam for hours, never getting tired.

he was happy.

then he woke up.

"No no nononon!" lance cried, shooting up in his bed. he grabbed his head in his hands. hes been having dreams like this for a month, he felt so uncertain about them, like as though someone was trying to tell him something. He didn't understand, repetitive dreams were supposed to mean something right? but what does this dream mean!?

he shook his head. thinking about it obviously he wasn't going to figure it out no matter how much he thought about it. he threw his legs over the bed, checking the clock

3:26

great, now he was going to be sleep deprived for the whole day, and mess everything up even more.

he went into his bathroom staring at himself in the mirror, leaning against the sink.

he remembers everything

and no not like remembering all the bad things, (though he remembers that too)

he has Hyperthymesia, diagnosed and all, now that's not his only mental illness, though people wouldn't call it a mental illness, but he would

remembering all those friendships' that ended for the worst, all his failures, every time someone told him to shut up.

he remembers the day he was born. not greatly. but he remembers foggily being so cold, and so afraid, the wetness of salty tears on his cheeks, and someone hugging him.

he quickly left the bathroom and couldn't help the tears that fell down his face, couldn't help to remember how nice his mother was, how quickly she changed when his father left, how quickly siblings popped up around him, how quickly bullies disappeared, only to be replaced by his mothers boyfriends.

he sat curled in the fetus positioned. he couldn't take all of this,.. remembering, all of his pain, he wanted to feel numb, to stop feeling hurt at all their words.

he grabbed a razor from his bathroom. he remembers hearing it on television from people with depression talking about cutting, saying how bad it was, but he didn't care anymore.

he cut lines down his arm, shapes and patterns, anything that came to mind. soon he could barely see skin, his whole left arm, all the way to his wrist. when he glanced at the clock, it was nearly 8, when the paladins went to breakfast, he was dreading going, but he had too, or else he would look guilty, he didn't want anyone to know, so he grabbed a towel and bandages, and bandaged his arm, cleaning up the puddle of blood quickly.

he threw the towel under his bed, and threw on his jacket and made his way to the breakfast table. he felt extremely self conscious of his arm, and he felt sort of tired, but not greatly, which was pretty weird considering he only got 4 hours of sleep.

he smiled weakly at everyone at the table, the only person missing was hunk, probably in the kitchen.

"You were late again lance. ." Allura said annoyed
"Nice to see you too." He muttered under his breath
"Alright team Voltron today, we have to retrieve the prisoners off a desolate planet called Zarf (idk) we may possibly see lotor, so be careful. Keith, try not to jump into any battles too quickly." Keith nodded looking slightly annoyed. "Hey lance are you doing good? You kind of seem.... not here." Asked pidge looking towards him. He nodded his head smiling. "Nah I'm fine, a bit sick is all." He felt delighted that they even remembered him, and payed some attention to him.
"Cause I don't want you screwing up another mission."

Oh
You know what, he expected that he shouldn't be surprised, still hurt, oh well they probably didn't mean it that way anyways
Maybe they do
Shut up eternal demons no one wants to hear that