halo 'n horns [klance au]

11. Say Sorry

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Lance

I lay awake in the motel room, staring up at the ceiling. Through the open window, I could hear the sound of crickets and the occasional car passing, it's headlights casting light across the walls of our small room. The floor was hard and uncomfortable and it smelled like puke and piss, but I wasn't about to crawl up into the bed with Keith.

I wasn't really mad at him still, but I wanted him to at least apologize. It had hurt like hell, but I was able to fix it, after all, and I'd given him enough silent treatment. I just wanted him to be sorry.

And maybe that was stupid. It probably was, considering what he was. I didn't know if devils could feel empathy, regret, shamefulness, so I didn't know if it was possible for Keith to even know what it meant to be sorry, but I wanted him to know. I wanted him to be... so many things. More considerate, more sensitive, more careful.

I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes. I liked that he could be funny, in the driest way possible. I liked that he knew what happiness was and that his smile was rare but real. I knew that he had strong morals and knew what he wanted.

I admired him for those things. I didn't know what it meant to be stable with my choices and sound with my decisions. I just did what was expected of me, never knowing what would come next, always wondering what would be my next challenge.

Keith was nothing like that. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, and he seemed to always know what he was doing, even if he didn't. He reminded me of Adam, in some ways. Cool and strong-hearted.

I glanced up at the bed Keith was sleeping in. Or, he could be awake, I didn't know. I wanted so many things, it was hard to keep track. I wanted to be valuable, for someone to think that I was good enough. I wanted to be strong and grounded. I wanted to be smart like Matt and brave like Adam and kind like my mom.

I wanted to have a place in the world, and so far, I hadn't found it. I didn't... know what my life meant if you could even call it that. I was just spinning through the years, doing random pointless things and constantly trying to be good enough at something.

Where was my place? Where was I wanted?

I flipped back onto my back, sighing quietly. The crickets chirped below the sound of Keith's soft breathing. He sounded asleep, and I don't know why, but I called out quietly to him.

"Keith?" I whispered, fingers laced over my stomach. No reply. I closed my eyes, pressing my lips together.
"I... I just want you to say sorry," I breathed, then pulled my blanket over my head and fell asleep, a pit of sadness knotting in my stomach.

...

For the first time in 4 days, I woke up on my own. Sitting up, I looked around the tiny motel room, quickly realizing that Keith wasn't there. In a way, I guessed that was a good thing- it meant that I could sleep in if I wanted to, but upon looking at the clock and realizing that I should be getting up anyway, I decided to just get ready for the day.

Keith's bed was made neatly, and there was a piece of paper on the comforter. Picking it up, I recognized Keith's curly, looping handwriting.

Going out.

Wow, very descriptive. Sighing, I looked outside. The sun was climbing steadily in the blue sky, and I could see heat rolling off the pavement outside. I checked my phone. It was April 28th, sunny with a high of 74 degrees.

After folding my blanket from the floor and putting it and my pillow on the bed, I walked into the kitchen to make coffee and root around the kitchen for something to eat. I found a small container of instant coffee and some sugar in the cabinet, but not much else, except some peanuts and a bottle of Tums.