saints and soldiers » klance

12: Endgame

Let's shed this unclean skin
And start to feel again
Cuz all the shoulders
On which to cry are gone

It was the night of the third day when there was finally a knock at the door.

Keith lifted his head. His neck was stiff from staring down out the window all day. For the first two days he had moved around- pacing, occasionally attempting sleep, standing beside the window- but by the time three in the morning had come around today, he'd given up, curling into the window frame, leaning his head against the side, and just... watching.

He heard shuffling outside the door, and then another knock. A throat cleared. "I, uh, can I come in?" After a moment, the door knob twisted, then abruptly stopped. Keith's eyes darted down. The door was locked.

He made a split-second decision. Standing, he crossed the room in a few quick strides, flipped the lock, and flew back to the safety of his windowsill.

He clutched at his knees. What, exactly, did he just do?

There was another shuffling sound outside the door, and then the knob started to turn again. This time, it didn't stop.

Standing outside was the boy from the garage and the dining hall. Lance. He was wringing his hands anxiously, but upon seeing Keith perched in the windowsill, his face adopted a warm smile. Keith tilted his head slightly. Why was he smiling?

His eyes remained locked on Keith's as he moved slowly into the room. Every step was cautious and smooth. Moving like he was trying not to scare Keith away.

Keith almost wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn't that skittish.

His face remained impassive.

Lance shut the door and moved to lean against the empty dresser next to the door. Not too close to Keith, which was fine by him. Physically far away, emotionally far away. That was the best way to do this. Chances were good that they'd turn him out to fend for himself soon anyway, or send him to a psych ward, maybe. No knowing until it happened.

Either way, he couldn't trust that this was going to last. The quiet sanctuary of this corner bedroom could only remain undisturbed for so long.

"You haven't been at dinner the last few nights, or breakfast," Lance said, watching Keith carefully. Wouldn't do him much good. "I asked the servers for all the meals. No one has seen you. Have you even been getting water?"

Keith didn't respond. Lance changed tacts. "I've been wondering about you. I, um... I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at first. It was a hectic night, you know? Cops everywhere and all those floodlights, and then the news vans- crazy. I can't even imagine how it must have been for you..." Lance trailed off, eyes going glassy as he thought back. Keith watched closely. Lance was so... unguarded. He didn't have all those shields up, like so many other people. He just... went for it, it seemed.

"Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for that. I should have figured it out sooner- I mean, you're very, um..." Lance went red and looked away, coughing a little. "Um, you're very memorable. I mean, the whole situation was memorable. I mean-" He cut himself off, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. His face was still flushed red. Keith wanted to smile so badly it hurt.

Lance composed himself and looked back up at Keith. His eyes were really a beautiful color, so blue...

Lance gave him a shy, beautiful smile, and Keith's heart skipped a beat. What the hell was happening right now?

He'd always been so good with his emotions. He wasn't quite sure how to react now, when it was getting harder and harder to hold himself in check around this complete stranger.

There. That was the wake-up call he needed. He didn't know this boy. He had met him a few days ago, talked to him once before now, and had been forgotten by him within the span of twenty-four hours. He didn't know anything about him beyond the fact that his name was Lance and he had amazing eyes. And that his walls were down and his smile was welcoming and that he made Keith almost want to talk...

No, no, no. Stranger. Stranger.

"So, I guess you don't really feel like talking, huh?" Lance said on a little huff of laughter. "Shiro- that's the tall one with the black and white hair, if you didn't remember- thinks it's because you've undergone trauma and you're choosing not to talk, or, like, you can't talk, because it was so... you know, traumatic. But I don't know. Pidge thinks- oh, she was the girl in the green shirt with the glasses- that you just didn't like us. I don't know though. Maybe..."

Lance paused delicately. "Maybe someday you'll tell me?" he suggested, looking up at Keith.

Keith stared back at him for a long moment.

He shrugged.

He didn't see Allura's jaw falling open in the hallway, or Lance's following suit. He had already turned back to his window.