Shiro x Reader | Sorry

Everyone in the castle had already settled down by the time he came to your room. Lights had been dimmed, doors had been locked, and the ship had been put on autopilot, so when the brash noise of your room's sliding door cut through your not-quite-asleep thoughts, you were very startled.

Thinking that it had something to do with Allura, you jolted awake and threw off your covers, only to be surprised by the sight of Shiro, standing in your doorway. His face was barely illuminated by the dull blue light in the hallway, and you could tell his shoulders were slouching in his shadow. You didn't know what to say, what to do, so you planted your feet back in bed and pulled you covers up over your chest. It was only once you were staring at the ceiling again, that you heard Shiro's feet shuffling towards you.

It had been a while since Shiro's last spontaneous visit to your room. Usually there was a warning, some sort of sign or distress signal that he sent during the day; a bruised lip from too much chewing, tapping on his thigh during breakfast, or a hand on your shoulder that shouldn't have been there. But it had been weeks, almost months since the last time he walked in without a warning. Scaring you half to death, but also confusing you, what did he want? You thought you'd given him your all already, and you thought that he didn't want it.

Being the head of Voltron must've really come with some perks. The door slid shut. 

As his feet got closer and closer to your bed, you began to wonder, why was it always like this? Why was it always you who had to be there for him when he had six other people by his side to help him cope and you had almost none. Sure you trusted the crew, but they were never your crew; they were never your friends. It was always a hard fact to deal with, knowing that Shiro had everything that could've just as easily been yours.

But, you were always meant to be his support. You were the lone survivor of the Kerberos Rescue Mission, another team doomed to the same fate as the original crew of 3. It had been your duty to save Shiro, and although you never made it back home, you were doing you best for him, emotionally.

That being said, though, you had never really taken the time decided how you actually felt about him. There was a period of time when you would've said that love was the right word for it, but after being rejected, you didn't know what there was left to feel. Of course you looked up to him, he was strong, fearless, and the least selfish person you'd ever come to know. He was the leader of Paladins, and before this mess occurred, the renowned pilot of the Kerberos Mission. He was his team's entire world, but what did that leave you with?

Of course, having gone through the same fate as him, with being stuck on a Galra ship and all, would've made someone think your bond was unbreakable, but there was a lot more to it than that, be it in his first rejection of you, or all of the times he seemed to like you back. Seemed to need you. He was like a small child, clinging to you at the worst of times, and leaving you at the best.

You could only hope that one day soon he'd grow up. There was a dip in your mattress, and you noticed that Shiro had peeled off all of his exterior layers of clothing. He turned, and slipped in right down beside you, scarred back to your face, as he pulled the covers from your grasp so they fit over him as well. He always seemed to know that he had your silent permission. You just sometimes wished he asked.

"I'm not sleepy," His voice whispered. Everything seemed to quiet around you as his voice hit the cool air. Even your thoughts seemed to settle against the back of your mind as his voice lingered in your ears.

"You don't have to sleep," you replied, looking at him while he rolled around to face you, prosthetic arm underneath his head as support while he stared into your eyes. He was beautiful, you noted, as he nodded, slowly, softly, as if he were confused by what you meant. You'd been this close to each other before, both verbally and physically, but sometimes, it was different. Sometimes you both had things to say, and others, different reasons to be in each other's arms.

You pulled the covers up higher around the both of you, taking time to tuck yourself in, squishing your face into the blankets with your forehead not quite touching his, but close. You blinked, and he let out a breath.

"Will you," he paused as if deciding what he wanted to say next "Stay awake with me?"

"Yes," You whispered in return. 'I hate what you do to me' was really what you wanted to say. 'I know what you're going through, and you constantly push me away. I should be angry, but I'm not.' It was always an unspoken rule to never talk about what happened with the Galra. Be it about his arm, his scars, or what they did to you, neither of you truly knew the other's full story. It was enough work to just be fighting against them together, and having an inner war was not how you wanted to spend that time. You knew he was fighting one too, you could tell that he needed this.

But you knew things were different now. You were no longer on that ship, you were no longer trapped together. Things would be different... You were different, he was different, it was obvious, and for now, pretending that things were all right didn't seem so bad. Speaking didn't seem too hard. Holding each other wasn't impossible. Maybe you didn't love each other (and maybe you did).

But... you both could learn.

He spoke again, cool fingers reaching out for your hand that lay by your face.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

He was the leader of the Paladins, a symbol of strength. You shut your eyes, letting his fingers fit between yours,

"You don't have to be."