Klangst - Don’t Keep it Bottled Up, part 2
Soooo, I said that the fluff would come in the next part, and that was what I had intended, but since I wanted to post something today and I’m too tired to write up the rest right now, I’m splitting up the second part of the headcanon into two parts. Sorry!
Don’t worry I promise there’s some fluff coming up in part 3! Sorry for any mistakes (I’m falling asleep rn)!
To say that Lance felt bad the rest of the day would be a severe understatement. If he had thought that the exhaustion and frustration from before was bad, the guilt and uncertainty that now weighed upon his mind was thousands of times worse.
He couldn’t bear to look anyone in the eye for the rest of the day, scared of what he’d say, what his expression might show. He knew he should’ve tried harder to hide it, because of /course/ the others would notice. He never tried to show any of his darker emotions. He had always tried to have a smile on his face, just so he could see another person smile too.
Lance’s mother had taught him about the power of expressions when he was little. She had told him about how, even if he was feeling bad, if he could still smile, that smile would brighten someone’s day, and that maybe that knowledge alone could make him feel better too. And so Lance had grown up laughing over the sound of his embarrassment, smiling through the harder times. He wanted to make others laugh. He wanted to make them smile. He took their negativity and kept it buried away, never letting anyone feel just how dark and heavy his heart felt under the burden. He had planned to keep it that way.
That had gone out the window from his and Keith’s first meeting. He found someone around whom he felt no need to fake smiles. He would scowl and glare whenever the mood hit him. It was weird, new, and Lance didn’t know what to do with it. Rationally he knew he didn’t hate Keith, though he had believed this in the beginning, but it was frustrating how hard it was to put up fronts around him. Today he had snapped, unleashing all those years of frustration, anger and hurt, on the one person from whom he’d never taken any negativity.
He felt sick, awful in the knowledge of what he’d said. He knew he could have a sharp tongue, but in the moment he hadn’t been thinking. He’d just been so stupid, proving just what everyone believed about him, and now he was making the others worry too. They all approached him and he sent them away as gently and swiftly as he could. He was fine. He /was/ fine…but now Keith wasn’t.
Hunk was the hardest to send away, for which Lance was grateful for him being such a good friend, and yet he couldn’t stand him being around. It wasn’t Lance that needed comforting. No. He wanted to be shouted at, because what he’d done was terrible. Eventually Hunk relented with a heavy sigh and soft words promising an ear if he should need one. Hunk was the best. Lance really didn’t deserve him.
Lance’s stomach grumbled, so he went to eat, but looking at the food made him nauseous. With nothing better to do, he headed to his room, wincing upon spying Keith’s door. Should he… Should he, what? He didn’t know what to do. He had never been in such a delicate situation before, and Lance was awful when it came to sensitivity. He knew an apology wouldn’t be enough. Maybe begging for forgiveness?
Ughhh. He felt dizzy and sick as he considered what he should do. Maybe he shouldn’t see him right now. He wasn’t in the right mind to talk. However, what if he left it too long?! In the end, as his stomach grumbled again, he went into his room, collapsing on the bed. He didn’t care that it was too early to sleep, he didn’t care he hadn’t changed, he didn’t care he hadn’t washed. He was exhausted.
Lance lay there, too tired to do anything. Including sleep.
Lance was a naturally active person. Now, this didn’t mean he was particularly keen on sports or exercise. However, when he had energy, he HAD to do something or else suffer the constant buzz beneath his skin. Unfortunately for him, despite his mental exhaustion and worsening hunger, as he lay on his bed, he could feel that itch to do something. It wasn’t long before his foot began to tap. Then, before he knew it, he was pacing the small room, head and arms hanging loosing as he let his feet carry him in circles.
As much as he wished to be able to sleep, Lance knew he would have to face Keith soon. The longer he left it, the harder it’d get. Yet this knowledge didn’t help ease the tightening of his heart at the thought of seeing Keith again. What kind of face would he have? Would he still have that cold expression? …would Lance even get to see him?
Given the circumstances, the last thing Keith probably wanted to do was see Lance, but it was inevitable. They were stuck together on the Castle, and they’d have to work with each other sooner or later when they next needed to form Voltron. Plus, Lance didn’t know how long he could cope with even more tension between him and Keith. The problem was Lance’s record of riling Keith up. Outside of pickup lines, Lance was not the most eloquent when it came to words, and despite first impressions, Lance had learnt that Keith was quite sensitive. Which meant that Lance would have to be careful when apologising.
Their situation was unstable enough as it was, he couldn’t afford letting his loose mouth cost him any chance of reconciliation. Which meant that Lance needed to decide his words before they next met. Finally coming up with a plan, Lance stopped pacing his room to sit heavily on the edge of his bed. Now the only problem was what to say.
It turned out to be quite a big problem as Lance sat on his bed, mulling over how to begin the conversation, only for him to change his mind each time. It never sounded right; too casual or too stiff. He wanted Keith to know he was being sincere, but Lance didn’t have much experience when it came to sincerity. Of course, he was honest to people about what he thought, but he felt like he needed to do more than just state what was on his mind. Besides, it was just so embarrassing to actually admit how he felt, and since old habits die hard, Lance knew he’d end up quipping at Keith to hide the embarrassment. Since when was having a conversation so difficult?!
Wait…that’s it! The way to start his apology! It would mean that he wouldn’t have to catch Keith alone and risk any slips of his tongue. Lance nodded his head, decision made. He now knew what to do.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since then, but as Lance woke up suddenly, from a nap he didn’t remember taking, Lance heard the distinct swoosh of Keith’s door opening and closing. Finishing the last bit of writing, Lance waited a couple of minutes to make sure the coast was clear. Then, he snuck into the corridor, still having the need to slowly poke his head out first. As quietly as possible he slunk to Keith’s door. Now the only question that remained was whether Keith had just entered or left. Thankfully, there was a sure-fire way of checking. Keith had a reputation for always locking his door when he was inside, ever since Coran apparently ran into his room without notice.
If he was in his room, Lance’s passcode would not work and Lance would have to call out to Keith to let him in, though that was not the plan this time. He needed Keith to be out, and as the door opened immediately, Lance let out a small breath of relief. He backed slowly into the room, his head still checking down both ends of the corridor for signs of Keith’s return. He kept the lights off as he slinked inside, knowing there wouldn’t be any obstacles in Keith’s room. All he had to do was place the note and leave before Keith came back. Lance had brought tape, not wanting to risk the note falling off or getting lost in the bedding.
He needed Keith to see this note. It was the start of his apology that would hopefully be enough to convince Keith to at least hear the rest out in person. So, with the taped note in hand, he made his way over to Keith’s bed in the dark, thankful for the lack of personal effects Keith kept in his room to have to worry stepping around (though a part of Lance hated the lack of belongings they had in the Castle, after all, this was to be their home for however long it took for it to all be over, and as everyone loved to remind Lance, who knew when that would be). Lance leaned over the bed, reaching to stick the tape to the wall next to Keith’s pillow. That should be a good spot.
A throat clearing made Lance jump, almost falling into the bed in his shock. Then, as Lance looked down, his eyes struggling to see anything in the dim room, he made out the shape of something on the pillow. Or, more specifically, someone.
Well, I hoped you enjoyed this small part! Please check out part 3 (and the epilogue)! As usual, I’m happy to chat/discuss theories/headcanons if you ever fancy, so just drop me a message if you do.