Langst: One Shots

Stupid Love.

*Please do not comment on this part.*
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Lance had to admit that sometimes he hated love. It was so complicated and at the same time could be something so simple that it was insane.

He hated the fact that he could be so absolutely enthralled by a person he hadn't even known that long.

Lance had been thrown into this space race nearly...what was it?

A week ago? Maybe a few days and a week? He'd lost track, it felt like years.

And maybe the things he was experiencing feeling were irrational.

A week wasn't supposed to be long enough to become so absolutely attached to a human being, heck.

Was he being desperate? Was he just a hormonal teenager lost at space? God, it was all so confusing.

Lance sat up in bed, feeling his stomach a little queasy. But that wasn't the first thing he thought of upon consciousness , no, far from it.

He didn't even notice how sore his arms were, what the day was, or the time.

This stupid little brain of his went to THAT person. The person he had only truly known for a week but was head over heels over.

When Lance woke up, the first thing he thought was of them, and then the pain it brought to his heart. They were the first thing he thought of when he awoke, and the last thing he thought of when he fell asleep.

It was the most painful thing ever.

Good pain.

He glanced over at his helmet, wondering if anyone was awake and listening. Sometimes the others were on at ungodly hours.

What time was it?

Lance put his helmet on at 3:11 am, and wouldn't take it off again until after 4 am.

And ya know what? He didn't have a problem with that at all. It made his heart swell and mood soar.

His human was awake, and maybe they were both sleepy but that was alright.

Their brains kept one awake for the other, and woke the other up for the other. That was crazy, and hella cliche.

They talked for awhile, as they always did.

Lance could talk to this person for hours, and would never ever tire. He talked about anything, everything.

The blue eyed boy only knew him for a week and it felt like years, like they'd known each other for 83 years.

But everything must come to an end.

People needed to sleep, for many reasons. To get better, to feel better.

Lance said goodnight, and took off his helmet and set it aside. He was still grinning. Always.

He shimmied down under the sheets, nuzzling his face into his pillow and sighed.

His heart had a good kind of hurt.

The paladin wanted nothing more than to admit everything to this very special person. They sort of had, during the hour long chat.

Lance was into this person, so absolutely into him that it hurt.

They clouded his mind and wouldn't leave. He was hooked, line and sinker.

Lance didn't mind.

He hated drugs, for reasons that didn't matter right now. But GOD he was an addict for this being.

Yeah, the one he'd only known for a week.

Lance glanced at his helmet, wondering if they were still awake like he was. Probably not.

Beauty sleep is necessary and even Lance knew that one. Even if most of the time he lacked on the subject.

He felt tears well in his eyes and he shifted so he was hugging his pillow with the blankets over his shoulders.

Shit shit shit.

Frick frick frick.

Hnnnnnngggh.

Lance was screwed, bolted to the wall.

He was stuck here, and for some reason he was thinking of the cartoon with a sponge that he watched as a kid.

He smiled as he thought of frappes.

Wow, minds really go everywhere at this time in the morning. 4:43 am.

The tears trickled down his cheeks and he was grinning so wide, trying to stay quiet because the other paladins were in the rooms nearby.

He was a mess.

Pkeaset have mercy on his soul.

Lance was probably gonna be slapped for saying and thinking all this, but this was the only way he could express it.

If anyone could hear the thoughts he expressed they would be so confused. And they probably are.

But the person, THAT person, knows the true meaning behind all of this nonsense.

Love is a funny thing, and it's uncontrollable. Love, which Lance remembered googling once:

an intense feeling of affection.

a person or thing that one loves.

Now Lance knew that Google wasn't as he had thought it had been. By far.

Because, sure, that was apart of love.

But it wasn't what love really was.

Love defined by Lance?

A choice to act in the best interest of the object of your love. That was love.

Lance would do absolutely everything for this human and he was so damned. But that was fine.

They deserved every bit of it, everything good in the world. He loved everything about them.

Imperfectly perfect, the blue paladin liked to call it. There was no denying.

He felt the tears start to slow, and Lance’s heart started not to hurt so much. He didn't have to be with this person in order to love them this much, or care.

Sure, it'd be nice. But it wasn't mandatory.

As long as Lance still had them to talk to when he woke up or stayed awake at awful hours, had their words to comfort him in his times of need.

When there was no one else.

As long as Lance had this person to talk to for hours on end just to prove he knew all the lyrics to an impossible song.

As long as Lance had this person, even just as a friend, as a partner in crime.

Then Lance thought that sounded pretty okay. It was more than pretty okay.

He wouldn't be in as bad if a place, his self deprecating thoughts wouldn't be so strong.

Lance had someone, and he focused on that. Did he mention he was screwed?

Yeah, Lance was screwed.