Hana

Violet

Lance woke up with his head on Keith's lap. They had fallen asleep on the couch, Keith playing with Lance's hair. Lance slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. Keith was still sleeping, his head resting on the back of the couch.

Lance yawned and stood up. He readjusted his nasal cannula, but his nose was sore, so he yanked it off. He coughed a couple times, his throat was scratched and raw.

"Hey," Keith sounded from the couch, sleep in his voice. He stretched, then jumped up. He noticed Lance had torn off the oxygen tubes and he picked them up. "You have to wear this," he attempted to put it on Lance.

Keith couldn't figure out how it worked, so Lance took it from him and placed it back on his face. He pulled the oxygen bag with him when he moved. When Lance returned from washing his face, Keith was in the kitchen making pancakes.

He noticed Lance and nudged his shoulder to a mug on the counter, "I made you some tea. I helped myself to your kitchen, figured I would make you something to eat. You need your strength and you're like sixty pounds."

Lance smiled at him, "Thank you." He picked up the mug and took a sip. Then, he set it down and jumped up to sit on the counter, watching Keith cook.

Keith smiled back and flipped the pancake over. After finishing, he set down the spatula and stood in front of Lance. He rubbed his thighs, "How are you feeling?"

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's neck, "Better than yesterday." He leaned down to kiss Keith, then rested their foreheads together. "You said you'd take care of me, right? Did you mean it?"

Keith smiled, "Of course I did."

"Even if I die on you?"

"I won't let that happen."

Lance took a breath, "Then you should grab a suitcase from your place."

They separated their foreheads and Keith picked up Lance to bring him back down to the floor, "Are you sure you'll accept me? That door has been closed in my face many times."

Lance chuckled, "It's open now. As long as you don't leave me."

Keith kissed Lance passionately, hands on his cheeks. "Can you come with me?"

Lance held one of his wrists gently, "Why?"

"I'm scared to leave you alone."

Lance smiled, "Let's go after breakfast."

Keith's apartment was a lot messier than Lance's. Art supplies was strewn about every surface, crushed energy drink cans lied on the living room floor, and clothes were piled on a chair at the dining table. To be fair, Lance didn't own many things anyway, so even if he tried to be messy, it wouldn't be anything near Keith's apartment. He pulled his oxygen tank along with him, being careful not to catch it on anything. As Keith gathered his things, Lance looked at his artwork on the walls. Every wall was covered in drawings and paintings. Lance's favorites included: a painting of a boy with a hand smearing blood on his face, a drawing of a child playing with two dolls, and a self-portrait of Keith sitting on the ground shirtless with his knees up and a hand running through his hair.

Keith returned to the entryway with a couple suitcases, "Alright, shall we go?"

Lance eyed the luggage, "You do know that your place is right next door, right?"

He laughed, "Well, yeah, but I don't want to leave unless I have to, and one bag is just art supplies and class materials."