Langst One-Shots

Storyteller

I'm sorry guys, but this is not an angsty chapter. I can't make one right now. I needed to write something good to calm me down before I resorted to a pretty bad... well, habit I guess you could call it. I'm so sorry. Langst will be made soon, I just can't right now.

Lance sat upon his roof, gazing at the stars. He began connecting constellations, even making his own. His mouth was lifted in the smallest of smiles, oocasionally pursing in concentration as he tried to recall the stories his Abuela and him had made up about a few. His eyes flickered over to Orion.

"Alright, nieto," she had said,"what do you think is his story?"

The older woman had pointed up into the night's sky, confusing the child before her. When the boy looked up, you could see his face.

There stood Lance McClain, only the young age of eight. He was puzzled, his eyes darting around the black sky.

"I don't see anything!" he had cried, getting frustrated. The kind elder had chuckled at the child's anger and quickly pointed back up to the sky.

"Do you see those lights up there?" Lance had nodded. "Well, they make patterns. Right there-" she grabbed his hand and used his first finger to trace the outline, "-is Orion, a man known for his belt." Now, the boy had nodded, deep in thought.

"What is his story?" he had asked, his eyes an ocean blue that sparkled in the light of the moon.

"I don't know. Why don't we make one?" His Abuela had, in fact, known what the tale was, but wanted to see what little Lance came up with.

As soon as those words had come out of her mouth, the little Cuban male's eyes widened and twinkled. He became lost in thought, creating a million possibilities. His head was brimming with theories, but he chose to share his favourite.

"I think... he was a warrior, probably the strongest in the land! He protected his family and loved helping people. He made sure that the health of his friends was his resp... reps.. respona...?" He stopped, failing to recall the word.

"Responsibility," Abuela had finished for him. His face split with a grin.

"Repsonstability!" Both him and the elderly lady laughed, the woman because of his adorable failure at correctly saying the word, and Lance because it sounded funny.

Lance's gaze wandered off, stopping at another constellation. This time, it was Cassiopeia.

"Hey Abuela," he remembered asking, "what is that W in the sky?" She had looked up and, sure enough, Lance had spotted a constellation she missed entirely.

"That is Cassiopeia, a female-" Lance excitedly cut her off, apologizing afterwards.

"Can we do the story thing again??" The elder smiled, nodding. The Cuban boy though for a moment before launching into a tale.

"Casspiopeah was a little girl who had black hair and brown eyes. She was pretty, and everybody loved her. Her parents were kind, just like her. She liked to read books a lot and was able to fly. She had a pet... hmm.... she had a pet... dragon! His name was Kyle." Lance stopped there and his Abuela smiled at his incorrect pronunciation and active imagination.

"I like her so far! Where was she from, Storyteller?" She asked, interested in seeing what he had come up with for her home country. At the nickname Lance had grinned, giggling. He liked it.

"She came from a magical land called Fireden! Her parents were part bird, so she could fly! Don't worry, they weren't like weird looking. They just had wings and..."

Lance's memories faded slightly as he became distracted. A bat screeched overhead, swooping down and seizing a flying bug of some sort before taking off. He smiled and his eyes once more landed upon the stars. Ursa Major was seen next.

"Little Storyteller, what about that one?" His Abuela showed him a new star pattern and his oceanic orbs glistened as he thought about telling a new story.

"She is a bear, so try and think of a tale behind her life." The old lady smiled and Lance didn't miss a beat.

"I got one! Alright, so Ursa Major was a small bear at first and growing up, she was smaller than her friends. They never made fun of her for it because they knew she would never do something like that to them. She was beautiful and kind, but other people were meanies and made fun of her because she was teeny." Lance paused for a second befors continuing.

"One day, she had to leave. Nobody knew why, but all they knew was that she couldn't stay. She disappeared. Her friends were worried, and looked for her every night. They didn't stop searching until one night, she was seen walking along the stars. She stopped suddenly, waved to her friends, and flashed brightly, becoming a pretty pattern in the sky." Lance seemed happy with this story and his Abuela was proud.

"You're such a good boy, my little Storyteller." She smiled.

Lance blinked up at the stars, returning from his final memory. A tiny grin danced across his face as he stood and stretched, cracking his back. He chuckled to himself.

"I feel like a glowstick now." The Cuban dropped from the roof, landing harmlessly into a roll. It was a single story house, so he wouldn't have been seriously hurt unless he landed funny.

Lance grinned, whispering a familiar nickname was called through the air, leaving his heart warm.

"Little Storyteller..."