The Color of Death is Blue

The Song

Keith watched Lance sit next to a window, trailing his fingers across the glass. It was low enough for him to sit comfortably, hug his knees, and lean his head against the frame. He had to borrow Shiro's old dark grey sweater, and it hung off his shoulders attractively. Lance's dusky blue eyes gazed somberly out at the reds and browns of the trees upon the hills, and his fingers traced the top of the grey skyline. Strands of his cocoa hair framed his cheeks and rested against his pert nose.

Keith often found himself watching the skittish boy's behavior. He found Lance interesting-not to mention beautiful. The two had grown a little closer within their short time together, talking almost normally to each other. Keith sat on the edge of the bed a few feet away, cleaning his equipment. His eyes had just returned to his gun when they immediately jumped back, attracted to the sound of Lance's humming. Keith let his body relax and he listened intently with a soft curious smile on his face. Lance's voice resonated inside his chest with the honeyed sweetness of brown sugar. After a pleasant melody of gentle hums, he kept his mouth barely open as he started to sing.

Thick-skinned chameleon climbs the curtains hanging on the wall;
The only living ghost to grace the hall

Keith's head naturally tilted at the somber melody, drawing him into the mesmerizing tune. It filled the space with warmth.

Meanwhile on the battlefield, another soldier boldly his tongue;
The only noble thing he's ever done

Lance let his thin fingers drift down the glass, and eventually fall. He took a deep breath as he closed his mouth, stopping his smooth voice. The abrupt end left the room silent and cold.

Keith's chest yearned to hear more of the song, but he didn't have the heart to ask. With reluctancy, he lowered his head back down to continue his work.

The room stayed tense for a minute, leaving an empty feeling in Keith's chest. He wanted to hear the sweet voice again. Picking up his gun to lay it across the bed behind him, Keith spoke in a greeting, "Hey Lance."

Lance turned his head to face him, eyes locked. He let out a quiet, breathy voice, "Hi."

Keith leaned his elbows on his knees and folded his hands, "So...what's your favorite treat?"

Lance raised an eyebrow in confusion. As he continued talking, his voice gradually gained confidence, "My what?"

"Your favorite food, sweet, treat, whatever. What is it?" He used his hands to talk, keeping his elbows glued to his legs.

Lance thought for a moment, letting his gaze drift as he did. Then after a few seconds, he picked up eye contact. "Strawberry cake. Like the ones at bakeries, with whipped cream and a strawberry on top."

Keith was unsure if he was going to even answer the question, so the detailed response surprised him. That has to be the longest statement he's ever said to me. "Oh, that sounds really sweet."

"Yeah," Lance lowered his head with a tender smile and tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear.

The action was adorable, pulling a blush from Keith's cheeks. He raised his chest and brought a hand behind his head, averting his gaze, "Well, um, yeah."

Lance giggled when he noticed Keith's reaction. His eyes softened and he brought a playful hand to his mouth. "Do you think I'm pretty," he teased.

Keith blushed harder and stuttered, taken aback by the sudden show of emotion. Lance was always curled up, covering his head or looking off with somber gaze. His forever sorrowful expression had turned into gentle playfulness.

Lance let his legs drop to a crisscrossed position, holding his smile, "It's alright," he leaned his head back on the window, "I think you're handsome, too."

Keith returned his eyes to Lance's and leaned back down on his knees with a smirk, "You do?"

Lance lifted his head, "Well, who couldn't?" He motioned to Keith, "I mean, look at you."

Keith crossed his arms confidently, "Well I didn't think you were into men."

Lance's eyes sparkled as he chuckled, "Didn't think you were into men either."

Keith uncrossed his arms, "Yeah, I am."

Lance's smile faltered and he returned his gaze to the window, "But don't fall for me, it won't work."

Keith clicked his tongue, "Never said I did."

Lance flashed him a straight face, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" It was a question, but it sounded more like a statement.

Keith's mouth formed a cocky smile, "Yeah," he pushed on his knees to stand, "I'm not convinced with the whole 'I magically kill people' thing."

Lance took a frustrated breath, returning to the glass, "Suit yourself, just don't try anything."

"Alright Princess," he lifted his hands in sarcastic defense, "whatever you say." He turned to leave the room.

Lance called after him in an aggravated tone, "And stop calling me that!"