The Best Klance Fanfictions

In the middle of the night - or - Galra!Keith is kind of sick

And he was just so tired.

Emerging, crawling out of the shower, Keith managed to grab his pants and put them on before smashing down on the cold hard floor. note for later : keith has no boxers here apparently His back hit first, expelling the air out of his lungs. Choking on what he had left of consciousness, the teen laid on the cool tile for a while. Reflecting on his life.

"Keith Kogane, the red Paladin, right arm of Voltron, is spread half-naked in his bathroom. In the dark. Because he can't take a migraine." And talking to himself, apparently.

He tried to chuckle but almost strangled himself, which resulted in even more coughing  and a tensing motion that sent radiating beats to his brain like a drummer beating a drum.

He glanced at the ceiling, a pitch black surface wich edges glinted in blue. The emergency stand-by light hardy lit up the place. It barely only reflected on his nails and shined on the drops over his arms.

Keith felt like he was about to puke up something. Is this how Hunk feels all the time? Without even knowing, he had gotten even more respect from the Keith, because holy shit, it was not easy to breath with half your insides on the brink of getting out.

Before the paladin could process the whole thing, his vision was covered in white dots dancing. He just tried to get back on his feet and had failed miserably, falling back against the cold floor. He wished he would see stars from anything else but a seasickness. Spacesickness, actually.

Keith rolled on himself, wrists and palms sweaty on the floor. He kneeled and grabbed the doorknob and, walking like a drunk sailor on a stormy sea, reached his bed. Only his upper body rested against the mattress, his back pressed against the sheets.

He wiped sweat from his forehead and erratically made his way to the door, before finally reaching the corridor.

The door closed shut in a soft shuffling behind him. Step one, over.

Shaking, he rested against it for a solid minute before coming back to reality. It was the absolute middle of the night, but the castle was still lit as a Christmas tree. A painful Christmas tree. White, stunning light piercing his lenses.

"Fuck!"

Keith clamped his eyes shut, tears strolling down his cheeks, and placed both hands on the wall to steady himself. The skin was hurting. Not only the bruises from the battle, not just the scars and the blisters of training and fighting.

His skin felt like it was tearing down, unbelievably painful.  

The paladin's nails dug into the wall, tracing a white line has he pressed himself against the still surface. Regardless of the wall that he knew wasn't moving, he still felt the world shaking. He struggled down the corridor until his hands bumped on a more metallic surface.

His knees weak, Keith pressed his forehead against the door. Whose door was it already ?  

The corridors' plans, the whole castle agency mashed up in Keith's brain. Did he went to the right ? Or to the left. Maybe left.

"Open up." Keith puffed. Under his fingers, the door moved.

Finally, he had reached help.

As soon has he crumbled on the threshold, he remember whose door he was standing in.

"Lance?" Keith's voice echoed like a croak more than anything, his throat was dry and rough like sandpaper.

He bit his lip. Lance would help, right? But was he even sure it was Lance's room ?  Nothing  made sense a minute ago, after all. His head was spinning so fast he could hear it. Maybe he was wrong after all. What if he landed in another paladin's room calling out to Lance ?