(You Can) Drop Your Façade ; klance

confessions

Keith is awoken by a soft melody coursing through the still air of 2 am. He thinks he's imagining it at first, maybe even still dreaming. The voice is soft and mellow, emitting hushed lyrics under the blurry moonlight.

Keith is halfway convinced that it's an angel, a sad and hesitant one. As Keith finally mustered enough energy to crack his eyes open and focus to the dark, he realized where the sound was coming from. It was Lance.

Maybe it really was an angel...

"...Anxiety...tossing turning in your sleep...even if you run away...you still see them in your dreams...It's so dark tonight...but you'll survive certainly...It's alright...come inside...and talk to me..."

Lance's voice wavered between the phrases, cracking a bit too. Though Keith didn't recognize the song, he could tell it was meant to be sung a little quicker, and not as slowly as Lance was reciting it. He was singing it in a rather sad tune.

Lance continued on to what Keith assumed to be the bridge. "We can talk here on the floor...On the phone if you prefer...I'll be here until you're okay..."

Keith shuffled in his blankets, closing his eyes. He had no intent to fall asleep again, he just wanted to listen.

"...Let your words release your pain...You and I will share the weight...Growing stronger...day by day..."

Lance drifts off, not having the heart to keep going. What if someone woke up? Woke up to him pathetically serenading the moon?

Yeah...the moon.

"Lance..." Keith started, opening his eyes again. Lance jumped, startled. He shifted his body to the edge of the bed, peering over a corner. Keith was staring at the ceiling, eyes droopy, but big. They flicked over to Lance.

"Did...I wake you?" Lance whispered, embarrassed.

Oh my god, I did. Didn't I? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!...Good going.

Keith nodded slowly. Lance groaned internally. "'M sorry," He muttered, scooting back to the center of the bed to avoid any eye contact. He lay on his stomach, stuffing his face into the pillow.

Keith smiled. "It's okay...You have a nice voice." He admits, wishing he could see Lance's expression.

Lance huffs. His face feels hot.

"I...haven't heard myself sing in..." He drifts off, trying to remember. An uncomfortable feeling lies in the bottom of Keith's stomach. Lance not being able to remember...worried him.

"...Do you...want to..." Lance whispers, changing the subject. "...I-I want to show you something..."

Lance crawls out of bed, tip toeing across the room. He slips a pair of vans on as Keith sits up. "Oh, um...okay then." Keith responds, removing the bed sheets. He grabs his boots and puts them on, standing up and following Lance, who was halfway out the door.

They walk slowly down the hall, occasionally stopping when a floorboard squeaks a little too loudly. "C'mon." Lance says, grabbing a pair of keys from the hooks near the door. Keith holds his breath.

Lance unlocks the door and they slip out onto the porch, closing the door softly. They make their way down the driveway, towards a small black car.

"It's Veronica's." Lance says, unlocking it. He sits in the driver's seat as Keith shuffles into the passenger's.

They remain silent as Lance starts the car, cringing at the sound. It was dark outside, save the dim yellow light coming from the street lamps. It was also quiet, it was two am. Lance didn't want to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood, thank you.