Memories // Klance

Excuses Excuses

Lance's POV:

Keith's face searched mine, his eyebrows raising as the glass in his hand seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion. Everything around me froze.

A cool chill, which only I was privy to, swept over my arms. The hairs on my arms pricked up, goosebumps suddenly appearing. Hunk had dragged me here, for reasons unknown, and it wasn't like he was going to tell me. All he told me was that it was important, and not to ask questions. It wouldn't have mattered either way, because sleeping wasn't really an option anymore; everytime I felt myself slipping away, another anxiety, another fear nipped at my mind. At least if I was awake, I could force myself to do something. Then, for even a moment, I could focus on something other than the dread and distress I felt. So Hunk telling me to go down to the kitchen wasn't such a bad idea. I just wasn't expecting to see him here.

His breath hitched, and within a second, I was brought back to the present, the glaze over my eyes vanishing. No. I wanted to go back, back to the state in which nothing mattered, where nothing I did had any repercussions, where everything was still and hazy.

The problem with that, though, was that I'd be alone with my thoughts.

And that was dangerous.

"What are you doing here?" He snapped, wringing his fists subconsciously, as if trying to find something to distract him from the absence of his glass.

My mouth felt like sandpaper, scratching at my throat and restricting me from being able to speak. Avoiding Keith had become my number one priority, and he seemed to be doing the same to me, so meeting now.... I wasn't ready. Even though I'd run through fifty different possible ways I could explain myself to him, none of them seemed right. The words contorted and stretched in my mind, taunting me, mixing and swirling in ways which made my brain ache.

But I couldn't run from him now. Keith was there in the flesh, right in front of me. No longer an image that appeared in my imagination.

"I asked you a question?"

"I came to get food. I- I was hungry." It wasn't a complete lie, but I felt as though if I told him the truth, Keith might blame Hunk for leading me here. My fingers rose to my arm, pleading to scratch and tear my skin apart, but I stopped as Keith's eyes followed them, widening. He'd never seen me like this, and I'd never want him to. So, I pulled down the sleeve of my sweatshirt, knowing that the scars would be hidden underneath it. But it looked like Keith already knew they were there without the confirmation.

A moment of sympathy flashed across his face, so quickly that I hardly noticed it, but it was there all the same. Yet I knew he wouldn't give me the satisfaction of knowing that I'd seen it, instead baring his teeth together and pulling on a mask of stone. "You done avoiding me now?" His voice was surprisingly calmer than before now. Like he was trying to stop himself from getting mad with me.

"I... I haven't been- I-"

"Yes. Yes you have and you know it." He blushed a furious red, and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as well. "And, you know, I put up with that shit for seven days, but I'm done with it now. Because -"

His shoulders dropped in defeat.

"Because it hurts."

My eyes flickered to his, and instead of seeing anger, or frustration, they were filled with deep pools of sadness. Regret. Sorrow. Just like mine.

After a second of reluctance, he sighed, unclenching his fists. "Hurts to know that you've had to avoid me. Hurts to know that while you did try to talk to me at first, I avoided you. I'm- I'm sorry."