"fuck..no, he wouldn't."
nevertheless, keith chased after the broken latino boy. when he reached lance's room, a wave of anxiety hit keith hard. what's the worst that could happen, though, right? he knocked. "lance?" he heard a faint raspy voice curse in spanish. lance only converted to his native tounge when upset or sad. this wasn't good.
- lance's pov -
oh my god he's at the door. what do i do?
"lance?"
fuck. i scream profanities in spanish, which i didn't even know i switched to. i fumbled around and looked for the rope i had especially for this. they all found out. i can't do this. with a throbbing migraine, i toss the rope up onto a little fan i had installed. perfect. i tied the rope quickly, i've practiced many times before. i could hear keith screaming on the other side of the door to let him in. i was too far deep, i needed to finish the job. the letter i wrote would be found, loosely tucked in my pocket. i slipped my thin neck into the hole of the rope. "goodbye."
YOU ARE READING
langst.
Fanfictionyour favorite cuban is back, now with 200% more angst! read at 2 AM ready with tissues. enjoy, you sadists! - was #1 in #sadstory - #7 in #paladins - #20 in #sheith
