Other ways to say "I love you" (Klance)

Chapter 11

It had been a few weeks, and Lance was still going on dates with Nyma. She had him wrapped around her little finger, and Lance couldn't be unravelled. After every date, Keith would be greeted by a panicked Cuban boy at his door, tears in his eyes as he's grasped in a tight hug. He would tell him how scared he was, scared of all the eyes that would judge him whenever he didn't obey Nyma, how Nyma would lash out when he didn't do what she wanted.

    Until after one date, Keith didn't have a crying boy at his steps. No one was at his steps. None of his texts answered, nor calls.

    Alarms went in his head, and he was terrified. Although Shiros' dad was yelling at him to come back, he carried on driving to Mrs. Spence's foster home, his grip on the handles of the motorcycle was so tight his knuckles were dyed white.

    He didn't stop until he was at the large home, immediately propelling himself off the vehicle and stomping his way to the red door. He knocked on, seeing the old woman in a soft manor.

      "Oh Keith... I presume you're here to see Lance. He should just up in his room dear." She beamed, opening the door wide enough for the teen to walk through. He gave her an affirmative nod before rushing up the stairs. He charged past bedrooms full of children, past closets and bathrooms until he finally came to Lances' door.

    He knocked on softly, listening closely to hear any wisps of his friends' voice.

      "Nyma... Stop... Please..." He heard Lance sobbed out. That's all it took until the Korean slammed the door wide open, and his heart came to an immediate stop.

Nyma was on top of Lance, his shirt ripped and wrists trapped in her fierce grip. Tears stained his cheeks, his eyes a raw pink.

      "Keith!" His horrified smile transformed to a beam of solace.

      "Get out of here!" Nyma shrieked, her face vexed at the mute storming in.

Keith panted in anger, until he snapped. He snatched at her arm, ripping her from Lances' torso, him in return shuffling to his bed post. He threw her to the ground, his eyes burned with a bitter fire.

      "Get the fuck out of here." Keith growled.

    The two in the room stared at him astonished. He had spoken, after eleven years of living a life with no words, he slipped up.

      "Keit---"

Keith gasped, he stumbled to mirror Nymas' place, then he collapsed onto the ground, pressing his back against the baby blue wall. His pants no longer breathing air of rage, but full of cold icy fear.

'You slipped up! You had one job and that was to just shut up! You worthless piece of shit! She'll be angry, you're going to get in trouble, over that balcony ag---'

      "Keith!" Lance shook at his shoulders, His features were crunched up by terror. "It's ok... You're going to be ok..." He went to stroke his face comfortingly, but he flinched away, sweat dribbling down his face.

      'I'm so sorry...' Keith mouthed, tears peeking out his somewhat open eyes.

      "It's fine... You didn't do anything... She can't get you ever again." He let Lance stroke his now wet cheeks. Slowly, the Cuban boy turned to glare at the girl staring at them from the other side of the room. "You should never come back again..." He snarled.

Keith didn't go home that night, he was too frightened to leave. Occasionally he would started to tremble in Lances' arms, his breathes sharply and not long enough to inhale enough air, and he would remember...

Those hands...

    Those hands that were wrapped tightly around his neck. His choked up words as she screaming profanities at him.

Lance couldn't do much, only be there to calm him down. He was glad it was a Saturday.