Premium Seats [Klance] ✅

39 - The Best Friends

A/N
an extremely late update and i so very sorry but hey— its here.

enjoy, folks

KEITH

"I haven't really said this, but I'm really sorry for making you skip school everyday,"

Keith wiped sweat off his forehead – smudging it with paint in the process – to regard Krolia. The woman was currently perched on a ladder near the windows, fastening curtain hooks with difficulty. "You didn't make me," he responded, returning to the half-painted wall. "It's my choice."

"What about your attendance?"

Keith found that he had no decorous answer to this, so he merely shrugged.

"Didn't you get detention the other day?" Krolia proceeded, sounding far from upset. Keith had subconsciously hoped that the news would at least tick her off.

"For a noble cause,"

He heard her snort. "The thing is, sometimes I can't help but think you just want to escape,"

Lance's face immediately swam into his head, and Keith chewed on his bottom lip. It had torn and bled from the amount of times he worried on it – out of habit; out of nerves. At this rate, he couldn't decide if they were still together. He definitely missed the boy, all right. He was also in a dire need to learn on how to reconcile with people. So far, his attempts to actually talk to Lance involved him freezing on the spot, spluttering nonsense, or darting out of sight.

"Maybe," he said truthfully, hating himself for even admitting it.

It's my fault that Lance is grounded. It's my fault that he was banned by his dad from playing basketball. It's my fault that he's at home today instead of at the court, where the big match is currently taking place. My fault my fault my fault—

"Wanna talk about it?" Krolia had climbed down the ladder, having given up at trying to hang the curtains to the tracks. Her dark hair had been shoved back by a headband, and she wore a white tank top over grey stirrups. Her tattoos curled out from her shoulder blades and snaked up the length of her neck, their black ink creating a stark contrast against her pallor skin. It took Keith only now to realise those were hanja.

"What do those mean?"

"Don't change the topic, Keith,"

"Just curious,"

"You haven't answered my question," Krolia leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms across her chest and studying him. It felt like looking into a distorted mirror; a taller, leaner version of him; built with delicate features instead of sharp angles and rigid muscles.

"It's not interesting,"

"I'm interested to know what goes on in my son's life," Krolia plainly said. "Even the little things. But – you know, it's okay if you don't feel like sharing everything with me. You're closer to Shiro—"

"Would you like to go to prom with me?" Keith blurted out so quick that even his brain sprouted eyebrows just to frown at him. The question took both of them by surprise, and Krolia's eyebrows actually went halfway up her forehead.

"Prom?"

"You know, that high school dance—"

"I know that," she said dismissively. "But, surely you'd wanna bring someone ... more your age? Lance, perhaps?"

"Lance and I ..." Keith flushed. "We – er, kinda ... well, we fought. And – um – surprisingly I don't wanna miss prom, so—"

"You two fought?"