Red String of Fate - KLANCE

20.

March 30, 2018 - 11:34 AM

Keith sat at the bar in the nightclub. Alone. He didn't doubt he looked pathetic. Because, a twenty-one year old sitting alone at a bar on a Friday night, silently sipping his alcoholic drink? Yeah, not very cool.

He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, completely lost in his thoughts. Thoughts about (you guessed it) Lance. All the times they spent together played behind his eyelids as a movie in a theatre. It was a movie of nostalgia. Of yearning for something he hadn't had, but felt like he had. A want laid so deep in his heart it had grown to be a part of himself, much like Lance himself had.

Keith opened his phone and clicked straight to his text conversation with Lance. Giving himself something else to think about.

Sent March 25, 2018 - from Lance McClain: Hi. I don't think you're interested, tbh I don't even think you're gonna read this. Anyways, my art gallery thing is today. I sent you an invitation with the address. I know we haven't talked in very long, but I was hoping you'd come and check it out. idk why I am sending this. Well, have a nice day I guess. Bye.

The last thing Lance has sent before The Incident. Keith sighed and resisted the urge to scroll upwards and read their silly conversations. They usually started with a silly text from Lance, often send at the weirdest time of the day. Like this one,

Sent February 23, 2018 - from Lance McClain: do u thin k aliens exsist?!??

He remembered how his eyebrows had raised as he read the text at 3 AM. A small smile had graced his lips and he bit his bottom lip and typed a quick reply.

Sent February 23, 2018 - to Lance McClain: Of course they exist. The galaxy is infinite, if we exist then surely there are other planets with life.

He smiled like lovestruck teenager as he had waited for a reply.

Sent February 23, 2018 - from Lance McClain: i knewi t!!!! ur a conspiarcy theorsit!!!!! do u believe in mtohman 2???

He had cringed at his friend's spelling, but replied with that familiar fluttering feeling in his stomach.

Sent February 23, 2018 - to Lance McClain: Go to sleep, Lance.

Sent February 23, 2018 - from Lance McClain: so u are??

Sent February 23, 2018 - to Lance McClain: It's three in the morning. SLEEP.

Sent February 23, 2018 - from Lance McClain: ur no fun

He had fallen asleep that night clutching his phone to his chest and his cheeks hurting from the excessive smiling.

Now, a month later, he longed for that feeling. For the harmless fluttering in his stomach and chest that told him he had a crush on the boy.

But the fluttering had been replaced for an awful clenching. It seemed as if an ugly monster had wrapped its clawed hand around his heart and squeezed every time he thought of Lance and the hurt look in his eyes. He didn't complain, though. Didn't spend all his time in bed, crying over a boy he had never had.

Instead, he had decided that he had to fix this. He had ruined whatever they had between them, and he was determined to right his wrongs. He had gone to Voltron Diner at Tuesday, at Lance's usual time. He had talked to Coran for bit, but when the man had sympathetically explained to him that Lance hadn't set foot in the diner for almost a month, Keith had paid and excused himself. He knew Coran cared for the both of them, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him what he had done.

So, he had ignored the (now familiar) aching in his chest and told himself that he'd see Lance in the nightclub with the other Alteans. He had prepared himself for it all week, practicing what he'd say in different situations.

And now, here he was. He knew he had to confront Lance before the dance-off began, he wouldn't have the time or energy to talk after it. So, after about fifteen minutes of hanging around the bar (in the silly hope that Lance would look him up here like last time) he shook his head and told himself to get his shit together and just got there.

He pushed off his stool and slipped the payment for his drink over the bar. Muttering apologies as he bumped into dancing people, he made his way through the crowd. His eyes were fixed on the white dressed people on the other end of the room.

He went straight for Allura, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Her eyes fixed on him and went wide before they filled with sympathy.

"Where's Lance?" he asked, not wanting to waste any time with formalities.

She seemed to get where he was coming from and patted his upper arm. Her smiled turned sympathetic, as if she felt sorry for him. "He couldn't come. Said he didn't feel good."

Keith's eyes widened before he frowned and scanned the group of Alteans. All of them were dressed in white with colored Vs on their chests. But none of them wore the azure blue markings, or had the same laugh as a certain Cuban.

His eyes flitted to Pidge and Hunk, and indeed, Lance wasn't at their side. He cursed. Looking back at Allura he opened his mouth to say something but she was faster.

"I'm sorry, Keith, but I don't think..." she trailed off, closed her eyes and was silent for a moment before she continued. "I don't think he is quite ready to talk to you yet." Her eyes flitted up to meet his. "He was pretty shaken up after your... conversation."

Keith tried to keep the hurt out of his eyes and posture, he really did, but it was a lost cause. His shoulders slumped and his lip pouted just slightly. He suddenly felt a thousand pounds heavier.

"Oh. Right. Yeah," Keith said as he looked down at his hands. "I'll just um... go... home."

He turned around to start pushing his way through the crowds again, but a slender hand on his bicep stopped him. He turned around to find Allura's bright blue eyes filled with sympathy looking at him.

"Come back next week, okay? I'm sure he'll be ready by then." She smiled sweetly at him and released her hold on his arm.

He nodded, feeling numb and empty.

This, Keith decided as he walked out of the club to his motorcycle, was worse than he had expected. He had spent the last few days by counting down to this moment, the moment he could tell Lance the truth. All of the truth. But now, he had to wait. Wait an entire week. Seven days of doing nothing but waiting for that one moment.

And as he drove home he knew that he had brought this upon himself. He was the one that hadn't been honest to Lance in the first place. He knew he had to bite his tongue, set his shoulders and just get through these days, but somehow he already knew this would be the longest week of his life. 

>>So yeah, we're not there quite yet. I promise there'll be a happy ending. Hang on guys!<<