The Half of It

Chapter Five

"You still didn't tell me, though."

"What?"

"Why you can't see the colors."

Keith pulled his knees closer to his chests, sitting next to Lance who was curled up on the floor with a trace of fatigue distinguishable on his features.

Demon faintly shrugged. "It's just the way demons are born." He massaged the bridge of his nose, eyes fixated on a smeared sigil as he spoke. "We are bound to see things in black and white which technically aren't colors, and some of us got the ability to see red, but that strictly depends on the demonic inheritance."

Lance's eyes were instinctively roaming over Keith's face. He didn't think about whether the closeness between them was bothering the demon, and he continued to shamelessly inspect him "So you are one of the privileged?"

"My father is of great birth. We have a powerful bloodline." Keith remarked.

"Has there ever been a demon who could see colors? Beside red?"

"Not that I know of."

"I see."

Lance played with the strip of his hoodie, twirling it around his fingers, round and round, and he could see where the material was slightly chewed off. It was a nasty habit of his, but he preferred it to nails biting.

He let his head rest back against the wall. "But you can see blue now if nothing else. Seeing it is better than not seeing it.'' Lance commented.

Keith didn't answer, and it struck Lance that even Keith had his internal wars to wage, considering that boy's face was trying to hide how he really felt. Perhaps he didn't like the fact that he could see blue, maybe he considered himself an abomination or a distortion because he had more expanded horizons than the others of his species, and he didn't know what to do with it. Lance wanted to give a penny for his thoughts.

"Look at it this way - you have a potential. You're greater than the rest of you." Lance directed him a sidelong glance, and Keith observed him with an open surprise. "The fact that you can see blue doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing.''

"I don't get how did it come to this." Keith mustered.

"We have time on our hands to figure it out." Lance offered him a reassuring smile. ''So how do you like blue?''

"Better than red."

"That's not an answer."

''Better than any color I spent my life seeing.''

"The rest bore you."

"Wouldn't they bore you if those were the only things that you were looking at your entire life?"

"Probably."

Briefly, they fell into a comfortable silence. The rational part of Lance's brain was instructing him to stay awake and stay alert, and not let his guard down in the presence of the dark entity. But he felt his eyelids uncomfortably burning and growing heavier by each moment passing by, and maybe his self-control was as good as imaginary.

"Quiesco." Keith leaned into his space and warmly whispered into his shoulder, and the last thing that Lance saw was the dimmed lemon flash of the candlelight which cautiously sneaked under his lashes.

-

"Pidge, what are we doing here?" Hunk observed the small well-tucked antique shop with slight concern, catching his own faded reflection in the shop window. "You said we were grocery shopping!"