Lances POV
Lance looked up from transferring events onto his Trixya desk calender.
The door opened.
"Hey Keith the timetables arriv-." He saw how much of a mess Keith was in.
"Are you alright Keith?" Lance asked, concerned showing in his voice.
Keith stared down Lance with bloodshot eyes.
"Fine," he went over to his drawers and pulled out various bottles of pills.
"Uh, Keith?," Lance peered over his shoulder.
"Is everything ok?." He said slowly.
"I told you. Everything is fine! now go back to your gay calender organising."
"I'm bi thank you very much." Lance huffed.
Keith's POV
He popped about 6 pills at once and then forced his guitar under his bed.
"Wouldn't it be better to keep your guitar on the stands?" Lance inquired.
"Nope my music career is dead and burning," Keith started snapping up his drumsticks.
"What about the band?"
"James and Ryan quit." He threw his broken drumsticks onto his bed.
"Why don't you play guitar then?"
"Because then we wouldn't have a drummer." Keith told him.
"Anyway me and Pidge will talk with Allura when she gets back."
"I can sing and play guitar if that's helpful." Lance offered.
"I'm going to get some air." Keith stepped outside of room 38 and sped across the various different colours of wall and out the door.
After running off the campus and into the open desert, Keith finally sat down on the side of the empty dusty road.
''Patience yields focus.'' Shiro had reminded Keith of that many times.
"Stay in control, you can do this,"
Keith watched the sun sink behind the rocks before deciding to walk back.
Once he got close to the school gates Keith realised he'd have to find another way into to his room.
Lance's POV
Lance woke to a tap on the window, he groaned and got up to see what the noise was. Keith was hanging for dear life on the drainpipe frantically tapping the window.
The window was opened and Keith hurriedly clambered inside.
"Thought you'd never come back," Lance chuckled tiredly.
"What time is it?." Keith asked.
"Nearly 10. You were gone for 6 hours."
"You're in bed early," Keith remarked.
"Hey my abuelita from Cuba called at three this morning so don't you start Mullet." Lance teased.
"It's not a mullet." Keith mumbled.
"Whatever I'm going to bed now," Lance said decidedly.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight Sharpshooter," Keith turned towards his bed.
"What." Lance sleepily mumbled.
"Nothing." Keith hurriedly switched off the light.