‘Don’t let go.’ Keith thinks, heart on his throat as his hand burns. ‘Don’t let go. Please, don’t you dare to let go.’
Lance, as always, goes against him.
“Keith.” He calls softly, the slight tremble at the end of his voice only making Keith’s grip around his hand to tighten. His breath hitches when the action only seems to make their hold slipper. “It won’t hold us both.”
“It will.” Keith mumbles, choking out a dry sob as he throws his head back, the slim rope that gets thinner by the tick mocking him merciless and then looks down, meeting Lance’s eyes and not the endless drop below them. Lance. Lance. Focus on Lance. “It will, Lance.”
Another snap. Both of them jump, fear digging deep in their bones as they hear the sound of the rope pulling on itself, thread by thread at a slow painful pace.
Seems like they have a lifetime, when they don’t.
“Keith.” Lance says quietly, sad blue eyes staring at him and nothing else, “I’m sorry.”
Resignation. Acceptance. Choice made.
“Please.” Keith whispers, shaking his head in denial, grip shaking against Lance’s hand and breathing becoming panicked when Lance’s hold goes limp, “Please, no.”
Cold air hits Keith’s empty heated hand and it’s the realization of the lack of Lance’s own that has Keith screaming. His hand can’t reach, he’s too far from Keith and he just keeps falling, falling, fall -
Gone. Lost. Choice taken.
