Voltron: Little Book Of Stories

One. Two. Three.

Keith's POV

The sun hung low in the sky filling the air with a subtle warmth of a golden glow. I skipped along the cracked concrete wearing my worn black converse. I've always liked that little, I don't know, scuffling sound my shoes make. I guess it just reminds me of him. I rounded the corner as a balmy gust of wind brushed against my skin. A car drove past as I made my way up to his door. Butterflies fluttered in my chest as my knuckles gently knock. I loved how I would always get nervous just before he would answer, but when the toffee haired boy opened that door with a stupid cocky grin, they would always fly away. I waited a few minutes before I rung the doorbell, not wanting to be too irksome. But still no answer. I glanced around nervously, something was wrong. I knocked again, this time with more force. "Lance!" I called. Still, not a movement came from inside. My hand grasped the bronze knob twisting it slightly. Much to my surprise the oak door opened. A musty smell filled my lungs as I stepped into my dark surroundings. I had left the door ajar casting a sliver of light upon his entry table, it illuminated the even layer of dust that laid across. I shut the door moving up the carpet covered stairs. The sound of running water. He was home, but why didn't he just come to the door? As I neared the bathroom I could hear a faint whisper.

"Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one-"

"Lance?"

"Thirty two, thirty three-" He continued raising his voice trying to drown out mine. I looked down at the marble sink. Steaming the clear liquid washed over his rubbing hands.

"Lance!" I yelled this time tearing his hands away. In the white lit room they were bright red. He was petrified. Tears falling to the stained tile. "What were you thinking!?"

"Please let go. I-"

"No."

"Please! You don't u-understand."

"Understand what!?"

"I can't end on an odd n-number." He jerked his hands away returning them to the water.

"What?"

"One. Two. Three-" Instinctively I pulled on his arms shutting off the water.

"Listen to me, please. What's going on?" I asked, but he responded with more tears.

"I have to, I have to."

"Have to what?"

"M-make it to forty two." Dumbfounded I stared blankly. I didn't know at the time. I wish he had told me, it would make things so much easier.

"Lance. Calm down. Let's go down stairs okay? We can get some of that aloe stuff on your palms." Gently I lead him down the khaki steps. He took a seat on the leather sofa while I grabbed a piece of the greenish plant. Breaking it open I spread the gel on his swollen hands like he had done for me countless times before. That night I went home still unsure of exactly what was wrong. Seeing as he didn't want to discuss the matter. I hung my jacket on the rack as a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor:

ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴅᴀʏs ᴀɢᴏ. ɪ ғᴇʟᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡᴏʀsᴇ, ʜᴇ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ, ɢᴏᴅ, ɪᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ. - ʟᴀɴᴄᴇ