VOLTRON ONE-SHOTS

Keith x Nifa - Standing Strong

Word Count: 3,638

She didn't have to look up to know the exact moment he sat down beside her, the weathered and rickety old park bench tilting a little more to the side with the added weight coming to a rest beside her. Nifa could hear the teen's heavy breaths, could see the way his fists curled tighter at his sides out the corner of her eye. Pairing that with the heavy scent of sweat assaulting her nose with his presence and the clear fact the teen's current foster house was at least three miles away from the park with no car in sight, it was safe to assume the obvious-

He'd ran from home.

Again.

"Keith-"

"You- you cut your hair," he spoke over her, breaths still heavy, just barely able to get the words out over how hard he was panting and she looked over at him with a hard frown, eyes catching the way his black hair clung in thick strands, soaked, to the back of his neck, face flushed tomato red that was still very much noticeable despite his hung head, fingers fumbling with each other, thin shoulders hunched.

Despite the obvious lie in the compliment, she found herself running a finger through her short, brown hair, anyway, even though it hadn't been cut in a while, and she knew, without a doubt what that meant- "You always say that when you run, Keith-"

He stiffened, "I didn't-" a pant, "-run."

She shook her head, far from convinced, "Then, why are you soaked in sweat?"

"Because-" he paused, frowning as if the action would make a plausible excuse come to mind faster, running a hand down his face, fingers coming away sheening with sweat, "because we always meet at the park on Sundays and, my dad wouldn't drive me-"

"You've never called a foster father 'dad' in your life-"

"So? I can start now-"

"Keith-" I growled.

"Nifa-"

"What's wrong? You only ever run off if something's happened, or- or if someone's hurting you, Keith, and I know it can't be that because you promised you would tell me if something like that happened again-" she blinked catching his hidden expression (eyes pinched closed, knuckles white from grasping his hands so tight-). "It- it isn't happening again, is it?" She asked, tone softer.

Keith stiffened even more at the mention of it before wildly shaking his head, "No, no, that isn't it-"

"You better not be lying, Keith or I swear-"

"It's not that, Nifa, I- I promise," another hand through sweaty hair, his endless heaving for breath seeming to calm little by little as the minutes passed.

Lips pressed in a solid line as she stared him down for a minute longer, "You promise?"

"I promise, I swear it's not that."

She bit her lip, convinced enough not to push on the matter, for now at least.

"Then what's wrong, Keith? You don't really run unless something's bothering you."

"It's nothing-"

"Keith," she groaned into her hands, I can't help you if I don't know what's going on." She watched him stiffen at her words, violet eyes downcast, fingers fumbling in his lap, and Nifa had the ever-so-fleeting thought of stepping too far into her friend's business-

Whatever.

That's what friends are for, to break each other down and build them back up when they fall. They'd promised each other they would get through everything together, she had that reminder to look at every day in the form of the boy sitting next to her, looking the same as he had when they first met all those years ago.