a/n: 213 words. kallura bakery au: they’re pastry chefs! a drabble. part of a wip that’s on hiatus now since i’m focusing on something else. i wrote this scene in sudden burst of inspiration and then i died reading it over the next day lol
---
“Allura?”
“Hm?”
She looks up, wiping her bangs away from her eyes with the back of her hand. Keith stares at her with an unreadable expression and holds up a spoon of light pink frosting to her face.
“Try this,” he says.
“Does Hunk have a new recipe?” she asks.
“No, I’m just trying something new.”
“Okay.”
She studies the frosting for a moment before meeting Keith’s bright eyes with her own. She leans in, opens her mouth as he carefully dips the spoon against her lips.
A delicate blend of sweet passion fruit, citrus, and strawberries. Allura’s eyes widen as she swallows the frosting and Keith pulls the spoon away. When she licks her lips, Keith quickly averts his gaze.
“How is it?”
“Wonderful.”
He turns back to her.
“I’m glad.”
His eyes flicker to her lips and Allura feels heat rising up her cheeks.
“Sorry,” he says quietly, though Allura can’t fathom what he could possibly be apologizing for. She tilts her head in curiousity.
Keith reaches in and gently wipes off leftover frosting on the corner of her lips with his thumb. Allura freezes where she stands, her heart racing a mile a minute. Looking away, Keith pulls back and licks the frosting on his thumb.
a/n: keith-centric. pre-s1, written before s6. i mean, this was supposed to be much much longer with a kallura ending but who’s got the attention span???
(ao3)
---
she’s gone, she’s gone
far across the hill!
as a souvenir from her hometown,
what did she give you?
a toy drum and a small bamboo flute
- edo lullaby
---
It’s his earliest memory, but it feels more like a dream. Keith knows it really happened once, when he was small and before he could speak in sentences. He can’t recall the sounds of crickets and distant coyotes anymore; the stuffed toy he had clutched so tightly back then is shapeless now, but sometimes he remembers warmth despite the cool desert night, the sadness, and a fleeting image of his father retreating back into their house.
He hears the voice always.
“Keith, look up. Look at the stars.”
It’s soft, this voice. He leans back against her chest, and when he glances up curiously, it’s so dark but he knows she’s there. He doesn’t know any better so he turns toward the sky.
The sight of stars scattered among great vastness, wonderfully countless and bright, permanently sears into his mind. His heart never forgets how much he wanted to reach them.
“That’s the universe, Keith. That’s where you come from.”
Like all children, he trusts and knows no other truth.
Sometime later, he begins to look out at the stars from his bedroom window, but only on the clearest of nights and after his father thinks he’s asleep. There’s no reason why he does it except that he wants to. Keith thinks stars must be magnetic, the way they seem to pull him closer to their flames.
His hair is longer and unkempt these days. His father is clumsy with scissors.
When Keith is in second grade, he decides to stop thinking about his mother. He doesn’t see the point of missing someone he can’t remember. The other kids don’t ask him about her, and he likes it that way. Most days, Keith just goes to school. His father packs foil-wrapped rice balls into his backpack in the morning and he’s always there to pick him up in the afternoon.
“Keith, do you know why I asked you to come see me?” asks his teacher one day, frowning. The stillness of the empty classroom creeps under his skin and Keith can’t look his teacher in the eye.
“No,” he mumbles, staring too intently at the small prickly plant sitting on the teacher’s desk instead.
Freak.
“You can’t punch people the way you did at lunch today, Keith. This isn’t the first time.”
Hearing silence, his teacher lowers herself to his level and turns to stare into his eyes.
“Keith, why did you do it?” she presses.
His vision blurs and the outline of the cactus disappears. He swallows any hint of vulnerability as he returns her stare with a piercing anger that shouldn’t exist in such a small child. This boy scares her.
You and your dad don’t belong here.
“He called me a freak.”
I bet your mom left you because you’re such a freak.
She doesn’t know what to say anymore, so she stands up.
“That can’t be all, Keith.”
“That’s all.”
She sighs. Of course, he thinks.
“I’m going to call your father to ask him to keep you home tomorrow.”
Go back to where you came from.
Then, time seems to fly and he bolts from the classroom the moment he can. His father finds him hiding in the playground tower later. They go home and Keith forgets all about it when his father treats him to red bean ice cream, which they only eat on special days.
Keith doesn’t care much for school, but he’s good at math and likes recess.
On weekends, he wakes up early so he can maximize his time outside. When it gets too hot to play jungle explorer, his father takes him to the shed and teaches him how to build a bicycle. Spending time with his father is always fun, and if Keith is lucky, his father will tell him incredible stories about flying and outer space. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, Keith can actually feel the wind in his hair and the embrace of magnificent stars up close in zero gravity. Keith thinks his father knows everything there is to know about the whole universe. They don’t have neighbors, so it’s just the two of them together. In the desert, in this place, where the sky extends past farther than his eyes can see, no one can bother them. It’s quiet. It’s fine. It’s normal.
“You sure you can handle the spokes by yourself, Keith?”
Keith’s violet eyes shine and he grins.
“Trust me, Dad, I’ve got this.”
He turns his back to work on the wheels and doesn’t notice his father holding his breath from heartache. Back then, things had been that simple.
One night, on the seventh anniversary, the stars call out to him. The closest Keith can get is the roof.
He sits at the edge, as far as he can without falling, thin legs dangling, unbothered by the windchill. From under his jacket, he pulls out the dagger, bound tightly at the crossguard in the same tattered cloth that had come with it when his father had given it to him just before he left for the Garrison. For a while, Keith studies it, pressing his thumb where the dark insignia on the blade should be. He doesn’t need to remove the wrapping to remember its shape, a luminescent purple jagged mark that he feels he must have seen once before in a dream, a long time ago.
And then, Keith looks to the sky, exhaling softly and unaware that he had been holding his breath. He only sees the stars in the pockets of space between dark rolling clouds. With a staggering sense of premonition, he quietly hides his dagger back into his jacket just as he hears footsteps approaching.
“I thought I’d find you here, Keith.”
The sound of heavy boots clanking against cool steel stops behind him. Keith doesn’t turn around. When the silence becomes too much to bear, Keith yields.
“You’re not going to report me, are you, Shiro?”
Stepping to the side, Shiro sighs and sits down next to him.
“Not tonight.”
Keith doesn’t say anything.
“It’s okay to miss him.”
“I don’t. I just wanted to be alone.”
“Of course.”
Shiro turns to look at the young cadet beside him, trying to study his expression. He doesn’t expect a response, but still he’s curious. Others call him troubled and disrespectful. They don’t hide their disdain for the boy or their wariness when Shiro swears on his potential. Keith is difficult, but a good kid, really. He needs someone to stick up for him.
“I can take care of myself,” says Keith finally, cold and unhesitating. “You don’t have to worry about me all the time, Shiro.”
He’s avoiding his gaze, Shiro observes.
“I know.”
They sit in silence, but then Shiro remembers that the next guard on duty will come around to inspect the roof soon. He turns, but Keith continues to stare far into the horizon, his focus unwavering. As much as he doesn’t want to disturb the boy, he places a hand on the boy’s shoulder, indicating that it’s time to go. Shiro stands up and starts in the direction of the entrance, when he hears Keith talking to himself.
“He always wanted to look for her in the stars.”
Shiro isn’t quite sure what he means, but Keith clearly isn’t ready to go. So he walks back inside alone, closing the door behind him.
Like all people eventually do in his life, Shiro leaves abruptly, without warning. They say it was pilot error. Keith refuses to believe them. He fights back, so the Galaxy Garrison expels their most promising pilot, quietly and unceremoniously. The expulsion doesn’t explain the weighing restlessness he feels these days or the kaleidoscope visions of alluring turquoise and lavender blinding him awake.
He wanders first, sleeping in rest stop diners with the clothes on his back and a small satchel of basic necessities. His mother’s dagger clings to his waist. He finds that he can’t sleep without it on him. One night, the desert calls to him in his dreams, and it seems to instruct Keith to return to it. The next morning, he buys a granola bar and an orange, and flies his hoverbike until the road disappears. He knows the rest of the way.
The house has been worn down by the elements, but otherwise it’s exactly as he remembers it. The sofa he always liked to hang upside down on as he watched his father work is still there. Dust drapes over the radio emissions readers, but they still work. He examines his hoverbike, weathered by natural elements since his Garrison expulsion. Keith has to repair the engine first, and then he paints on a fresh coat of brilliant, unmistakable crimson. He doesn’t wait a second after the lacquer dries to go for a test ride into the canyons.
a/n: fun fact: when i started writing fic again, i wrote a bunch of plance that i never finished (in one of my wips i wrote a paragraph of k/a and here we are now). anyway last night while i was procrastinating, i decided to clean house and figured i’d post this little christmas section from a longer wip that i wrote over a year ago lol
pairing: pidge/lance (can be platonic but crushes are implied)
words: 993
---
“Right. Anyway, what’s the last stop? We already gave everyone their presents.”
They stop in front of Pidge’s room, but far enough that the sensors don’t detect their presence yet. Lance grins at her.
“Not everyone,” he responds with a burst of excitement. “Wait here!”
He clasps Pidge’s shoulders reassuringly while Pidge opens her mouth to protest, but Lance doesn’t give her time to say anything. He runs down the hall – back to his room, Pidge hypothesizes – and in a minute, he comes back with a mysteriously-shaped green package topped with a Christmas poinsettia-red bow. Pidge doesn’t want to believe it. They hadn’t talked about exchanging gifts for one another.
“Merry Christmas, Pidge!” Lance declares, his bright teeth shining in his smile.
“We never discussed this!”
“I know, but I couldn’t resist. Open it now. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”
Pidge takes the present from his hands and handles it carefully. She studies the package carefully. It’s nicely wrapped, as nice as it can be given its non-traditional shape. It also isn’t very heavy, and Pidge really can’t guess what Lance could have possibly gotten her. When did he have the time, anyway? The pair of them had barely been able to sneak around getting presents for the others without getting caught. She quirks an eyebrow at him.
“Just open it.”
Pidge has never been good at unwrapping presents, so she unceremoniously rips the green wrapping paper and finds another layer of semi-transparent plastic. She tears the plastic open too, and her eyes widen at her present. She already can’t wait to hang it up in her room.
“Lance, how?” she asks incredulously. In her hands was a set of fairy lights, just like the ones on Earth. “There’s no way you could have…we didn’t see anything when we went to the Terra store?”
“I know, I kinda asked Ryner for a big favor,” he explains, scratching the back of his head. “So they’re not exactly like the ones you have in your room on Earth, but do you like them?”
“Totally! Can you help me put them up right now?” Pidge asks animatedly.
A wave of relief washes over Lance and he nods, smiling. “You’re going to need help reaching all the high places.”
“I thought you were actually a decent guy for one second,” Pidge teases.
“You mean you didn’t before?” replies Lance, pretending his feelings are hurt. Pidge scoffs, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him into her room.
It only takes about ten minutes for Pidge and Lance to pin up the fairy lights above Pidge’s messy bed and to connect it to a power source. Standing on her bed and meeting Lance at eye level in a rare occurrence, she grins at him. She reaches over to turn off the ceiling lights, and the fairy lights shine brilliantly. Lance watches Pidge’s face as she admires the small bulbs of light. She turns back to him.
“Thank you, Lance,” she says softly, looking into his eyes.
“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and despite the fact that Pidge is the one wearing his jacket, he feels exceptionally warm. For a moment, they lock eyes and Lance can’t seem to look away.
“Actually…I have a present for you too.” There is a playful tone in her voice. She jumps off from her bed, walking past him and opening her closet. As expected, Lance finds her closet painfully cluttered with random junk, but he waits patiently.
“Close your eyes,” orders Pidge. Lance shuts his eyes. He hears her shuffle items around in her closet, and then closing the closet, presumably having found the present. She walks back to him.
“Hold out your hands.” Lance lifts his arms, his palms facing up and trusting Pidge completely not to give him something gross. He feels her place a smooth, flat object in his hands.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
He opens them.
Lance bursts out laughing, “No way! Are you serious?”
Pidge beams up at him proudly. Admiring the neatly-arranged stack of dark brown puff pastries, Lance carefully removes the plastic, setting it aside, and takes the first pastry on the top. He eats it in two large bites, and as he tastes the homemade pastry, he tries not to make a face. Pidge suddenly feels a sudden wave of panic, her own facial expression falling.
“Cuban pastries? I think? Not Hunk’s best accomplishment,” he jokes, pastry still in his mouth. Pidge pouts, feeling hurt, and punches him lightly in the arm.
“I made them! I thought I’d make them for one of my best friends, who talks about them all the time, but I guess he doesn’t appreciate them!! Do you know how long it took me to make cream cheese?!”
She reaches over to snatch the plate back from him, but Lance chuckles and lifts it above her head. Pidge crosses her arms and pouts again, looking at him apprehensively. He finally swallows his pastry.
“Pidge, I love them, this is the best Christmas present ever, but they look and taste terrible,” he answers honestly, leaning in and hugging her tightly with one arm. Pidge’s pouting face is squished against his chest, and she stubbornly refuses to respond to his apology. Lance isn’t deterred. He puts the plate down on Pidge’s nightstand and wraps his second arm around her.
“Pidge, I’m not going to share these with anyone, not even Hunk. I’m eating every last one of them,” he promises.
Lance feels Pidge’s mouth curl up despite herself into a small smile against his chest, and he knows she won’t stay mad at him.
“You better,” she mumbles, raising her arms to complete the hug. “Merry Christmas, you jerk.”
“Merry Christmas, Katie,” he teases, letting go of her and taking another pastry from the plate. Lance grins when Pidge’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn a deep red from the shock of hearing her name. He thinks nothing of it, of course.
it’s like a summer shower
with every drop of rain singing
“i love you, i love you, i love you!
---
“Friends don’t kiss their friends,” Keith finally says. His voice is nearly a whisper, lost in the sickening sea of overpowering dance beats, and yet Allura hears it as clear as day.
She can’t bear the look in Keith’s eyes, hardened and utterly expressionless. It’s her least favorite look. Keith pretends he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeves, but his eyes change like the seasons with every emotion. Knowing Keith better than anyone else, Allura has memorized them all. Now, shielding himself from impending heartbreak, he stares at her like a stranger.
“We’re just…we were just fooling around,” she answers, but it feels like someone else’s words. Allura anxiously tugs at her jacket sleeves, and she hopelessly searches for any hint of affirmation in Keith’s eyes. Her chest feels so heavy, and her voice falters when she speaks.
“…Right?”
If she could just…
Allura reaches for his arm, needing to know and needing him, but Keith pushes her hand away and she flinches.
He’s never done that before, and she can’t understand why.
“I don’t want to fool around with you.”
Keith’s words rip the air from her throat, flow through her veins like fire. Allura’s eyes widen.
“I…this was a mistake,” she says, voice quivering. “Even better, it never happened.”
“Allura, don’t,” Keith exasperates.
Allura shakes her head and closes her eyes, refusing to look at him any longer.
“Take me home.”
For a long time, Keith says nothing. He studies the dark, perfect blush of Allura’s cheeks, the way she avoids his gaze right now, and he comes to some tacit understanding. He frowns, berating his own frustration and impatience. Keith wants so badly to be infuriated with her, to forcibly kiss her until she sees it his way, to forgive and agree with her, to maybe finally move on. Every option fiercely contests within him, but one thing remains vividly clear. And so, he sighs.
“Okay.”
---
Scattered stars shine faintly in the cloudless sky despite the unnatural line of flickering streetlights. Keith and Allura follow familiar sidewalks back to the street they’ve both lived on since she was four and he was five. Eyeing her left, Allura sorely notices the tiny fraction of greater distance that Keith has put between them.
The walk home is unnervingly silent until they reach the front steps of Allura’s house.
Taking a deep breath, Allura turns around to Keith one last time before she heads in. A few seconds pass as she builds up courage.
“See you Monday?”
Keith musters a small smile, and Allura’s heart drops to her stomach.
“Good night, Allura.”
---
“Of course I don’t like him. I don’t like it when you’re with him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s my best friend, Lotor.”
-
“You’ve been weird ever since Christmas. Something happened, didn’t it? I knew you should have come with me to the party instead of your family thing.”
“Nothing happened that night.”
-
“I’m tired of this, Allura. It’s either him or me.”
She’s gotten used to the quiet walks home from school. For mid-January, the sun is unapologetic, and the weather a little too warm. These days, when she’s not attending student government meetings, Allura practices with the school varsity dance team. By the time she finally leaves campus, the sky is already dim, having already decided what color palette it wants to be that evening. Today, it’s elected on cotton candy pink and periwinkle blue.
Allura pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the pastel sky that hardly does the real thing justice. She sighs softly, stuffs her phone back in her jacket pocket and adjusts the textbooks in her arm.
She doesn’t mind the solitude in walking home alone. In fact, she prefers it to the high-energy, dramatic commotion favored by a good number of her high school peers. With Lotor, and his friends by proxy, out of her life, Allura feels a sincere peace she hasn’t felt in months.
Looking forward into the horizon, Allura realizes she’s arrived at the park near her house and sees in the distance a familiar figure resting against the slide.
Grinning, Allura fixes her jacket and looks both ways before crossing the street. She tries to maintain the element of surprise, treading lightly on playground gravel as she approaches the slide.
“Hi, stranger,” Allura greets shyly, peering over curiously.
The edge of Keith’s lips curl into a small smile before he peeks out from one eye to confirm his suspicions. Arms extended behind his head and acting as a pillow, Keith takes in her presence and closes his eye again once he memorizes Allura’s rosy, wind-chilled cheeks and adorably tousled hair.
“What are you doing here?” asks Keith, half-seriously. “I thought we were picking up the decorations for Hunk’s birthday tomorrow.”
“Oh, I was in the area,” Allura replies playfully, setting down her backpack and crouching down to Keith’s level. “I just came from school.”
“Lotor drop you off?”
The smile on her face disappears.
Oh, right.
Allura inhales sharply.
She hadn’t told him yet.
Chest tightening, moderate panic starts to sink down into her stomach. Allura anxiously chews her lip, running through all the possible scenarios that could only follow Keith’s question.
“Um, no. I, uh, broke up with him.”
For every long, agonizing second that Keith is silent, Allura berates herself for not telling him sooner. Who waits this long to tell their best friend that they’d broken up with someone? She stares at him intently, holding her breath for his response.
“When?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t look at her.
“Two weeks ago,” Allura answers nervously.
“Oh.”
Quiet again. Allura wants to hide behind her hair, or run away or something.
“Sorry things didn’t work out,” Keith adds.
Allura teeters uneasily against the edge of the slide, choosing to focus on Keith’s unbuttoned red flannel and plain white shirt underneath.
“It’s fine. We just didn’t agree on some things, in the end. I’m not upset,” she explains, her eyes flickering to Keith’s face.
He doesn’t say anything, but Allura watches the covert rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deeper breath than usual. Then, Keith opens his eyes and turns his head toward her.
“How was dance practice?”
Allura exhales in immense relief, grateful that Keith had decided to change the subject. She hadn’t been ready to explain the often inevitable follow-up interrogation as to why they had broken up, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to tell Keith about the ultimatum Lotor had given her. In fact, while she’d told Romelle and her other friends, she had conveniently forgotten to reveal the real reason why she and Lotor had broken up.
She gives him a tired smile.
“Exhausting. Nationals are coming up so we’ve been running through our routines pretty hard.”
“Think you’ll place?”
“We have to believe that, don’t we?” Allura shrugs.
Keith nods languidly in agreement, turning back to face the sky and setting sun. Because he surely won’t notice her, Allura takes the time to admire the relaxed expression on his face. Keith has always preferred the outdoors, and basking under the light of the fading sun, he seems to belong inside a portrait of earthly nature, an exquisite product of the stars. Most importantly, he is her best friend and she’s made the right choice. Desiring his attention, Allura gives in to the urge to grab onto Keith’s flannel shirt and acts upon it without a second thought.
Just as she expects, Keith promptly glances down at her hand, and then to the rest of her.
“What are you thinking about?” Allura asks.
“What I want to eat for dinner.”
Allura presents an unamused look at his absurdly mundane answer. Keith sits up on the slide, finding her hand and keeping it pressed against his waist.
“My mom has a staff meeting tonight and Dad’s on a double-day shift. It’s just me so I don’t feel like cooking,” he explains.
“Well then,” Allura begins, eyes now glimmering with excitement, “Would your feelings change if you had to cook for two?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“My parents are going out on a date,” she clarifies, “So I’m home alone all night. I was just going to order pizza, but if you’re cooking…”
“Are you seriously inviting yourself over for free food?” Keith quickly interrupts.
Allura pouts a little too innocently for Keith to easily disregard and he sighs, unfortunately aware that he’s never unable to deny her when she presents herself in such a way. He grasps her hand a little tighter.
“Fine,” he says, to Allura’s genuine delight. “But it’s just going to be leftover ramen.”
“I love your dad’s homemade ramen though! I want extra chashu with mine,” she grins.
“No green onions?”
Allura nods eagerly, and Keith can’t help but chuckle. He releases Allura’s hand, but she doesn’t care to let go.
“You’re helping with the dishes though.”
“Of course.”
Keith plants his hand firmly on top of her head and stands up. He bends down and snatches Allura’s backpack, swinging it over his shoulder.
“Come on, let’s go,” he says, and Allura gladly springs back up to her feet. They walk down the winding, concrete path, back to the street, in the direction of Keith’s house.
“Oh, and can we go out for milkshakes after? My treat.”
“Who’s going to drive?” Keith asks rhetorically.
Allura giggles, skipping a step sideways and hugging his arm tightly.
“You.”
Keith rolls his eyes but quietly leans into her touch.
“Didn’t even need to ask.”
---
“You fell asleep on me last night,” Allura grumbles as she slams the passenger door to Keith’s old, red pickup truck. “Hold this.”
Keith takes the lavender coffee mug from Allura’s waiting hand. As soon as her hand is free, Allura dumps her textbooks in the space between them and quickly fastens her seatbelt. Sighing dramatically, Allura closes her eyes and slumps into her seat.
“I tried to stay awake but who studies until two in the morning?” Keith explains, staring at Allura’s frazzled appearance with deep amusement. With the mug still in his hand, he steals a sip from coffee but immediately makes a face.
“Gross. Hazelnut.”
“It’s always hazelnut. Give it back,” Allura pouts, anxiously extending her hand out for her much-needed caffeine. Keith carefully sets it back in her hand. “I have six tests today. My teachers are conspiring against me.”
Allura brings the lid opening to her lips and drinks a long sip of hot, creamy hazelnut coffee as Keith pulls out of her driveway and starts their way to school. After a moment, Allura rubs her eyes and forces them open, intently fixating on the gloomy sky in front of them. Keith glances over, catching her in the act, and frowns.
“How much sleep did you get last night?”
Allura sighs and tiredly pulls at the jacket sleeve falling off her shoulder.
“I don’t know, two hours maybe. I was still awake at four, I think.”
“I wish you’d slept more.”
“I know, so do I,” Allura replies wistfully. “I was just so worried and lost track of time. I’ll make it up tonight, I promise.”
Keith chuckles.
“I don’t think it works like that.”
“I know that too. Junior year is the worst.”
Allura huffs and grabs her AP physics textbook from the pile, finding her page marker and opening the book to the chapter where she’d left off for one final review.
“You’ll do fine,” says Keith. He turns to her and smiles encouragingly when Allura looks up. Her shoulders relax. She takes a deep breath and responds with a small smile of her own.
“Thanks. Now stop bothering me.”
For the rest of the day, Allura’s mind focuses obsessively on passing her tests. After Keith parks his car in the student parking lot, they stop by their lockers – Keith’s first so he can pick up his economics textbook, and then Allura’s, where their friends like to congregate before first period. Braving the cold February weather as they stand in front of her locker, Allura, Hunk, and Pidge discuss and exchange notes for the test, while Keith, Romelle, and Lance socialize unobtrusively. A moment later, Pidge ducks out of the group, phone in hand, stating some important business related to Matt and Nyma that Allura doesn’t care to question, preferring her flashcards on the rudimentary theories of magnetism and optics.
Allura flips incessantly through the pages of her physics textbook, ignoring the nearby commotion surrounding Matt’s loud declaration, his showy red and pink poster, and Nyma’s blushing delight. Absorbed in theorems and equations, it takes a moment for Allura to realize that the first bell has rung.
“Time to face the music,” Hunk groans, snapping his textbook shut.
Allura sighs solemnly and shuffles through her notes one last time. She glances over her wrist and gasps.
“Oh no, I forgot! Keith, could you –”
She spins around and sticks her arm out, and Keith dutifully tugs her lucky scrunchie off her wrist. He steps behind her and quickly collects her silver hair, combing his fingers through loose tangles. In her periphery, Allura can’t help but notice and think that Lance and Romelle are staring at her as Lance whispers into Romelle’s ear. She inhales sharply, trying to recite physics equations in her mind. Finally, Keith ties her hair up into a tight ponytail, and Allura suddenly turns around to face him.
“Thanks,” she says a little breathlessly.
Keith grins and gently squeezes her arm.
“It helps you concentrate. Relax, Allura. You already know everything.”
Allura smiles shyly and nods in agreement.
“I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Definitely.”
A hard slap meets the back of her shoulder, and Allura looks to her side and finds Lance staring not at her, but straight at Keith, who abruptly looks away.
“So, Allura, Pidge, and Hunk have a test to take. We’ve got classes to get to,” Lance announces loudly. “Let’s hustle, folks.”
“Good luck, you guys,” says Romelle.
Lance abrasively throws his arms around Keith and Romelle’s shoulders, pushing them forward and dragging them along. Allowing a distracting moment for herself, Allura grins as Keith shoves Lance away before she starts following Hunk and Pidge into their classroom.
As always, Allura settles into her desk and easily finishes the test, turning it in five minutes before the bell. With each consecutive class and test, Allura feels a weight lift from her shoulders. Having taken four tests in a row, she trudges to the art room for lunch, where she inadvertently claims Keith’s lap for a quick nap on Ms. Montgomery’s couch. Despite the riddled anxiety and hazy sleep deprivation, Allura manages to keep herself motivated until the end of sixth period, after she places her literary analysis in the plastic tray on her teacher’s desk.
The dismissal bell sounds, and Allura lets her body give in to exhaustion at last. Haphazardly, she packs her things and walks out of her classroom in a daze. When she somehow makes it back to her locker across campus, Keith is already there waiting for her. Without a word, Allura rushes over and collapses into his surprised arms.
“I survived,” she murmurs into his chest.
“You survived,” Keith laughs, closing his arms around her.
“I’m so ready for the weekend.”
“It’s only Thursday.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Keith’s body is like a furnace impervious to the sharp, chilly air around them, and Allura hugs him tighter.
“What do you want to do now?”
“Go home. Sleep.”
“Guess the answer’s no then,” Keith replies, his voice directed elsewhere. Allura looks up curiously and follows his gaze. Realizing that their friends had been standing around the entire time, Allura feels a flush spread across her cheeks.
“Aw, sure you don’t want to come to Sal’s with us, Allura?” Hunk asks. “Well, most of us. Me, Shay, and Romelle. Lance and Pidge are trying to scam the movie theater so they can see Star Wars again on one ticket.”
“No, we’re not!” Lance contends. “Pidge and I are simply taking advantage of tonight’s couple discount. We are a couple, after all. A couple of friends.”
Pidge groans.
“In other words, scamming. Why didn’t you just ask out that girl from yearbook?”
“She rejected him,” Pidge snickers.
“Oh, poor Lance,” Allura teases, throwing herself into the conversation.
“Wait, Pidge, tell us what happened!” Romelle exclaims.
“No, Pidge! Don’t tell them! And besides, Hunk, why aren’t you and Shay doing anything?”
“We’re going out this weekend. Her parents don’t want her staying out late on a school night.”
“Fine, whatever. So if Keith and Allura are going home, then the three of you can just ride in the back and I’ll drop you off.”
“Sounds good.”
“Maybe we can meet up later,” Allura suggests.
“Sure, just text any one of us,” Romelle smiles.
Allura waves as her friends say their goodbyes and depart for the parking lot. Sighing comfortably once it becomes quiet again, Allura unexpectedly feels a hand in her hair. She looks up as Keith pulls her scrunchie, allowing her hair to fall and cascade down her back. For a while, Allura gratefully lets him run his fingers through her hair.
“You could’ve gone with them,” she eventually says. “I could’ve just walked home.”
“Allura, you look like you’re right about to pass out. I’d rather make sure you don’t fall asleep out on some sidewalk.”
“Thanks, because I feel like I might.”
It starts to rain on the ride back to Allura’s house. Perfectly tranquil, classic rock music plays softly on the radio in Keith’s car. Allura gently leans against the window, and the relaxing ambiance nearly lulls her asleep. She only realizes that they’ve pulled into her driveway when Keith lightly shakes her arm, convincing her to open her eyes and face him.
“Stay, please. I’m just going to take a short nap.”
The slight, affirming smile on Keith’s face is the only answer Allura needs.
Her body meets her queen-sized bed face first, and Allura hastily shoves her phone and keys onto her nightstand. The inviting warmth calls to her, and she gladly buries herself deep under the thick, pink and white covers. Trailing behind, Keith sets Allura’s backpack and textbooks near her desk. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it neatly over the scarf and worn, pale blue T-shirt on the back of Allura’s chair. Disregarding the general mess of the room, Keith walks over and settles down next to Allura on the other side of the bed.
Allura readily turns toward him, crossing her leg over his, and Keith quietly extends his arm out, letting Allura edge in and rest against him. Keith carefully wraps his arm around her, hugging her tightly and earning himself the impression of a pleasant smile against the side of his chest. Sliding her hand across Keith’s waist, Allura responds by holding him close, never intending to let go. For as long as Allura can remember, Keith has always let her sleep like this, and after years of sharing beds for sleepovers and camping trips, Allura can no longer imagine any other way she prefers to fall asleep.
“Wake me up in an hour,” Allura mutters, her lips tightly pressed against Keith’s sweatshirt.
“One hour,” Keith echoes.
He leans over the edge of the bed and pulls out a class-assigned novel from his backpack, opens to where he had left off. Rain patters against the white-framed windows, and perhaps Allura should feel disappointed rather than utterly content, today of all days, that she’s so tired, stuck indoors, and without a significant other. She breathes in the faint scents of Keith’s weathered book, of mint and citrus, and the lavender of her clean bed sheets. Once she closes her eyes, the soothing, languid strokes of Keith’s hand running down her back are the last thing Allura feels as she drifts into dreams.
She wakes to the muted sounds of her parents walking downstairs and the clanking of their garage as it closes moments later. The dead silence makes falling back asleep hard to resist, but Allura wearily opens her eyes anyway, only to see evening darkness from the window. She furrows her eyebrows and squints, realizing that Keith clearly hadn’t kept track of the time.
Emerging slightly out from the covers, Allura looks up and finds Keith fast asleep, his book left open and facing down on his chest. At some point while she had been asleep, Keith had wrapped his other arm around her, and now secured warmly in his embrace, Allura attempts to slowly remove the book and successfully places it aside. She almost doesn’t want to wake him up, preferring to go back to sleep herself, but she nevertheless stretches her neck and inches her body as far up as she can.
“Keith, wake up,” she manages to whisper into his ear. She shakes his shoulder when he doesn’t seem to react.
The shaking appears to work, much to Allura’s relief, and Keith stirs, inhaling deeply. His hand lethargically slides up to the back of Allura’s neck, and his face dives into her hair.
“Five more minutes, Lu,” he mutters.
“No way. Keith, you fell asleep. You were supposed to wake me!”
Keith’s eyes snap open and he pulls back to meet Allura’s annoyed glare. Allura pouts to emphasize her displeasure.
“Sorry. The book was really boring.”
“Now it’s dark out so everyone probably already went home.”
“What should we do?”
Allura sighs, pondering the question as she absentmindedly picks up the drawstring on Keith’s crimson red hooded sweatshirt.
“…Do you have any plans later?” she asks, staring at the drawstring as she daintily twists it around her finger.
“No, why would I?”
“Oh. I thought you’d want to hang out with your other friends tonight…” She trails off, and then pauses for a moment. “I figured I should share you sometimes.”
Keith laughs and reassuringly places his hand on her waist.
“I decide who I spend my time with and when. Not you. Do you want to order takeout?”
Finally looking up from the drawstring, Allura smiles and nods enthusiastically.
“I want Italian. And later, can we rewatch –”
“Don’t say it.”
“– Pride and Prejudice?”
“…Again?”
“Please? I really want to,” Allura begs, batting her eyes in hopes of persuading him.
“You can already recite every line of that movie by heart.”
“So? If I’m going to be lonely and single indefinitely, at least let me indulge in watching my favorite movie ever.”
Keith rolls his eyes.
“You’re not going to be lonely and single forever, Allura. It hasn’t even been two months since you broke up with Lotor.”
“Please, Keith?” Allura asks again. “You’re the only one who’s ever nice enough to watch it with me.” She runs her hand up Keith’s neck and gently presses her thumb against the corner of his lips, having recently discovered this trick and knowing this time that she’ll convince him with it. Keith’s grip on her waist tightens and he frowns.
“Okay, fine, we’ll watch it,” he grumbles.
“You’re the best!”
Keith collapses against the pillow, releasing Allura from his hold as she excitedly climbs over him to grab her phone. He exhales deeply, smiles with uncertainty when Allura turns around and comes back to sit next to him.
“You should just admit you like the movie too,” Allura teases, glancing over Keith’s troubled expression.
“Right. That’s never happening.”
“Oh, but coming to terms with liking something really gives you peace of mind. It’s a lot better than that tense look you have right now. There’s no shame in loving Jane Austen.”
Keith’s eyes widen as Allura leans in and assertively rests her head on his shoulder. Staring down at her screen, Allura swiftly pulls up the food delivery app on her phone.
“Now tell me what you want so I can order it.”
---
In the darkness, the only source of light, flickering as the scene changes, comes from the large television screen in front of them. Delicate British accents speak in low volume, never obstructed by the occasional hum of central heating surging through the air vents close by. Curled up on the couch, Allura stacks a small bowl of pretzels on her knee. They share Allura’s childhood fuzzy blanket, and despite his earlier protests, Keith watches the movie intently.
“I love you. Most ardently,” Allura whispers, her cheek lazily pressed against Keith’s arm. “Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.”
She giggles softly and looks up, anticipating Keith’s reaction, only to see him already gazing down at her.
“I love you most ardently. Isn’t that romantic?”
Waiting expectantly for Keith’s answer, Allura brings a pretzel stick to her lips and snaps it in half with her teeth. Instead, Keith sighs and raises his arm. Following his lead, Allura scoots in closer and lets him drape his arm around her shoulders.
“You always ask that.”
Allura responds with a cheeky grin.
“It’s because I think it’s really romantic.”
“Huh.”
“I wish someone would tell me that. Pretzel?”
Keith raises his eyebrow just as Allura holds up a pretzel stick to his face, letting go when Keith casually leans forward and accepts it with his mouth.
“You want someone to quote Darcy?”
“Well, no, not exactly. Just that they love me, I guess. No one’s told me that before other than my parents.”
Keith stares at her with a strange expression that Allura can’t quite read.
“Lotor never said it?”
“Nope.”
“…Did you ever say it to him?”
Allura shakes her head.
“It never got to that point, I think.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. There was a lot that I liked about him, but I don’t think I ever loved him.” She sets aside the snack bowl and snakes her arm across Keith’s stomach. Clinging onto him wistfully, she hides her face in his chest. “So it’s fine.”
Sensing Allura’s shifting, dejected mood, Keith swiftly surrenders his attention to the movie he’s been forced to see too many times. His hand leaves the armrest and starts gently carding through Allura’s hair. Allura exhales softly and turns her attention back to the screen. When the scene changes again, she pulls their blanket up past her shoulders.
“I could say it, you know,” Keith says quietly. He pauses his hand and his fingers settle in Allura’s hair.
Allura twists her neck and gazes up at him. Illuminated by the light, her deep blue eyes seem to glow.
“Hm?”
“I wouldn’t be your parents either.”
Allura smiles softly.
“Of course not. But you’re my best friend. I already know you love me.”
For a second, Keith’s eyes seem to fixate on the part of her face below her eyes. Allura watches Keith swallow and just barely bite his lower lip, triggering within her an inexplicable wave of self-consciousness. Eventually, Keith laughs, though almost as if he had been holding his breath.
“It’s not the same, is it?”
“Exactly.”
She beams at him, pleasantly surprised by his sudden offer. Diverting her focus back to the screen, she uncurls her legs and lies down along the couch, using Keith’s lap as a headrest. She grabs another pretzel stick from the snack bowl. More important to her right now is the romantic drama unfolding in front of her eyes.
---
“What the hell, Keith?!” Lance shouts loudly over the music and fervent party chatter, when Keith perfectly tosses his plastic ball into the last remaining red cup on Lance’s side of the table. Meanwhile, at least ten cups remain on the other side.
“Drink up, Lance,” Keith smirks, as James cackles and throws his arm around him in celebration.
Allura grins from where she lounges on the couch behind Keith and James. Watching Keith and Lance compete is always entertaining, even if she’s admittedly biased for one over the other. She brings the edge of her cup to her mouth and finishes her drink, licking the last of cool lime and tequila from her lips. Even in her scarlet halter top and denim shorts, the room feels hot and stuffy.
Lance gripes with his loss as he angrily snatches the cup and drains it of its content. He slams the empty cup down on the table.
“Best two out of three!” he declares. “And this time, Acxa’s on your team! She kept missing on purpose!”
“Hey! That’s not true,” Acxa contests, walking over to Keith as she and James agreeably switch sides.
She shares a sly, knowing look with Keith and Allura quickly averts her gaze and chews on her cup.
“Lance, you’re just delaying the inevitable,” Allura abruptly calls out.
Keith turns around at the sound of her voice and grins at her. He appears to glance her over, and Allura sits up, biting her lip and offering a gratified smile when their eyes meet.
“Oh, shut up, Allura, you always take his side,” Lance snaps back.
Allura laughs, conceding to the accusation. She’s about to get up for another drink when she feels a hand touch her shoulder. Reluctantly, she tears her eyes away from the game and turns to see who it is.
“Allura! Let me do your hair!” Romelle exclaims, coming around the back of the couch and bouncing down into the seat next to her.
“Sure!” Allura happily agrees. “Here.”
Extending her arm behind her head, she pulls out her light blue scrunchie and lets her long, silver hair fall freely down her back. She draws her legs up and crosses them, then angles herself parallel to the couch. Romelle’s fingers excitedly begin to comb through her loose locks.
“I love your hair, Allura. It’s always so nice and soft,” Romelle sighs in admiration. She sections Allura’s hair into three parts, preparing to braid.
Allura looks behind her shoulder and smiles.
“You always make my hair look really pretty, Romelle.”
With cresent-shaped eyes, Romelle gleefully accepts the compliment. Turning back toward the armrest, Allura catches the sight of Acxa grabbing Keith’s wrist and pulling him off to the side. Her growing curiousity is entirely unintentional, and Allura observes them from the corner of her eye as they privately strategize their gameplay.
Once the second match starts, Acxa aims for left cups while Keith aims right. They work well as a team, gaining an early lead against Lance and James, and Allura silently attests the accomplishment to their undeniable compatibility. She tries to recall the history of their friendship. Though Acxa has only been a student at their school for a little over a year, she had easily found her place within Keith’s clique of friends at school as one of the few seniors on the fine arts track. Acxa and Keith especially had been fast friends and almost immediately started collaborating on projects for classes and around campus. For a while last year, Allura would always see her name in Keith’s sparse text messages.
Acxa misses her third toss, and despite her rather empty protests, Keith pulls up his sleeves and drinks the shot for her. Acxa, in her oversized graphic tee and ripped jeans, looks so effortlessly cool when she signals her gratitude and places her hand on Keith’s shoulder. She carries confidence in her posture, but out of everyone in the crowded room, Allura is probably the only one who notices her faintly pink-tinted cheeks. Keith surely doesn’t, engaging instead in defiant trashtalk with Lance.
Allura takes a deep breath. They actually look good together.
And suddenly, she feels so much less significant. There’s an exclusive part of Keith’s world that she isn’t a part of, and in a way, she’s glad for it. In that part of his world, there are people like Acxa who understand all the artistic jargon that Allura never could, appreciate the goodness of Keith’s heart that she’s taken for granted, and provide what a best friend like her can’t.
Allura narrows her eyes, starting to feel the effects of her earlier drink, and decides to take a break from watching the game. She pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees.
“Oops, I messed up. Sorry, starting over,” Romelle giggles and apologizes from behind.
“It’s fine.”
Allura lifts her head when Hunk and Pidge emerge from the nearby hallway moments later, searching for Lance and Romelle.
“There you guys are! It’s almost my curfew, we gotta go!” Hunk chides, clearly sober and the designated driver for the night.
“Five minutes, Hunk! We’re right about to make a comeback!”
Hunk studies the number of cups on the table and frowns.
“Nope, nuh-uh, that’ll take too long. We need ten minutes to get home, and we have exactly that. I’m not getting grounded just for some lame beer pong game.”
“Aw man.”
Lance hands the table tennis ball over to James. He stares directly at Keith as he puts on his jacket.
“This doesn’t mean I forfeit!”
“Yeah, it does.”
When a frustrated Lance passes by the couch, Romelle pouts and lets go of Allura’s half-braided hair.
“I was almost done. But oh well. I’ll see you on Monday, Allura.”
She stands up and leans in for a hug, which Allura reciprocates.
Once they leave, excitement for the game dies down. Acxa backs out to even out the players, carrying her drink over and taking the seat Romelle had just occupied. Now much more evenly matched, Keith and James resume the game, eager to finish and move on.
In her buzzing indecision, Allura misses the chance to start conversation with Acxa, who she still doesn’t know very well despite sharing a mutual close friend. Luckily, Acxa doesn’t seem to mind the silence, opting instead to closely watch the game. Without a purpose, Allura yawns and checks her phone. She eventually realizes that the game is over when Keith saunters over to her with a smug grin on his face.
“Hi,” he says, leaning against the side of the couch.
Allura slides her phone back in her pocket and turns to him. Ignoring the coarse graze of polyester fabric against the side of her chest as her shirt rides up, she throws her arms around his waist and effectively anchors herself to him. Unlike the room temperature, Keith’s natural warmth is always comfortable.
“Hi. Finally. I’m bored.”
“Not even a congratulations?”
Allura scoffs and reaches up to fix the front of his perpetually disheveled hair. Keith lowers his head, hesitant as he gazes down at her.
“I’m not stroking your ego just because you happen to have unnaturally gifted hand-eye coordination. You don’t even like playing that game.”
She draws her hand back, redirecting it to his lap once his hair is as neat as she can make it.
“Fair point.”
“Can I have that?” she asks, peering at the glass of alcohol in his hand.
“I’ll let you have this, but I’m also getting you water.”
“Ugh, okay.”
He runs an affectionate hand down her arm and lets her take his glass before stalking off to the kitchen.
“You and Keith are really close.”
Allura blinks and connects the source of the statement back to Acxa, exhibiting an oddly concerned look in her eyes.
“We’ve known each other for a long time. He’s my best friend,” Allura responds slowly.
Straightening her back and crossing her legs, Allura eyes the glass in her hand and decides to quickly finish the roughly two shots worth of liquor still left. She winces and coughs after the sharp taste of vodka burns down her throat, then sets the glass aside. Considering that the glass had been full, and that it hadn’t been his first, Allura wonders how it’s even possible Keith hasn’t blacked out yet.
“I know we haven’t talked much, but since you’re close with him, can I ask you something?”
Eager to finally have the opportunity to bond with Acxa, Allura smiles and nods.
“Of course.”
“Who does he like?”
Allura’s eyes widen. Her arms drop to her lap.
“Who does he like?” Allura repeats, trying to make sure she’s heard the question right. It’s hard to focus.
“I’ve tried to ask him before but he wouldn’t tell me.”
Allura blinks furiously, racking her mind with increasing pressure for an answer. Of all the questions Acxa could have asked her, she hadn’t expected this one. Allura is sure she’s asked Keith about it too. If she thinks back, the most recent time she’d asked would have been at the Christmas party, but Allura realizes with sudden clarity that he’d evaded her question by pulling the ribbon from her hair. Who did he like?
“I don’t…I don’t know,” she admits.
Acxa sighs and slumps back against the couch, stealing a glance at Allura before looking down at her drink.
“Sorry, Keith and I somehow never talk about that kind of stuff.”
“It’s fine. I just wish I knew who I was up against. I have some idea, though.”
Deep down, Allura’s known this all along, and she loves being right, so she has no idea why it still feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out. She stares at Acxa, so brave and flustered and beautiful, in disbelief.
“…You like Keith?”
“It’s stupid, right? I bet you know all the terrible things he’s ever done. But I really like him.”
Acxa’s face is red after admitting her crush, and Allura can’t fault her. Keith is talented, rebellious, attractive, and really really nice. He stays up late with friends to help them pull all-nighters, climbs up their rooms when they’re grounded and bored. Allura would even easily confess that she’s thought about Keith’s brilliant indigo eyes more than once. Of course Acxa likes him.
“Oh. Totally.” Allura replies, missing a beat. She doesn’t sound like herself.
“I mean, he is terrible,” Acxa continues. She lifts her head, warily meeting Allura’s detached stare. “We made out once.”
Something inside her chest lurches, and it makes Allura feel terrible. Keith never should have given her his drink – vodka apparently doesn’t sit well with her – and she can’t believe he still hasn’t come back with her water yet. She hugs her arms, hoping they’d help still her wildly racing heart. When she tries to speak, she can’t manage anything more than a whisper.
“You and Keith…”
Acxa sheepishly bites her lip and nods.
“Last October. After I kissed him first. But then he apologized and asked if we could stay friends. That jerk.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said he was still trying to get over someone.”
---
Allura anxiously taps her fingers against the lunch table, taking turns between glancing at her phone and the large cafeteria doors. Her food rests idle, growing cold, in her plastic tray, while Hunk does a poor job feigning ignorance of Allura’s obvious restlessness from across the table as he eats large spoonfuls of parmesan mashed potatoes.
“Allura? You okay?” Hunk asks carefully.
Allura blinks, tearing her eyes away from the cafeteria entrance, and smiles blankly at her concerned-sounding friend.
“I’m fine, Hunk,” she responds, picking up her fork and poking into her bowl of rubbery mac and cheese.
“Waiting for someone?”
Allura’s eyes widen.
“Why – why would you think that?” Allura stutters, turning pink.
“Wild guess.”
“Well, I’m not,” she counters defensively, sending Hunk an irritated look.
“Where’s Keith anyway? Don’t you two usually come together since you’re both in the E building for fourth period?” Hunk inquires.
“Oh, um...I didn’t – I didn’t see him,” Allura says quietly, quickly looking down and taking a bite out of her mac and cheese.
She hasn’t told anyone what had happened at the party yet, and she’s not ready to admit that she hasn’t seen Keith at all since then. The old, red pick-up truck that Keith drives to school had been gone from the driveway when she had left for school this morning. When she had waited, as had become the norm, to meet Keith outside her classroom after fourth period earlier, he had never shown.
“He’s in the art room,” a bright voice explains from behind Allura’s back, causing her to jump. Carrying her lunch tray, Romelle crosses her leg over the bench and takes her seat next to Allura.
Looking down at her lunch even harder, Allura finds the crusty, burnt edges of her mac and cheese particularly unappetizing today.
“I saw him on the way to my locker. He said something about a meeting for all the seniors. Allura, you look like your lunch killed your father and you’re about to avenge his death,” Romelle remarks, casually resting her head on her hand and grinning as she studies Allura’s hard expression with amused fascination.
Slowly, Allura looks up and turns to Romelle.
“Haha, do I?” laughs Allura humorlessly. “I guess I’m just worried about my calculus test tomorrow.”
“Didn’t you say it was on Wednesday?” Romelle asks pointedly.
“Oh, right. Wednesday,” Allura corrects herself, taking another stab into her cheese-drenched bowl.
“Allura, is something wrong?” Romelle frowns.
Allura’s eyes darken and avert Romelle’s concerned gaze.
“I don’t know why people keep asking me that.”
Unsettled by her best friend’s unusually moody response, Romelle narrows her eyes. She shoots a questioning glance at Hunk, who simply shrugs. Unsatisfied by Hunk’s answer, Romelle stands up, grabbing Allura’s arm and causing Allura to drop her spork in surprise.
“You’re coming with me, Allura. Hunk, stay here and watch our stuff,” Romelle directs.
“Uh, sure,” Hunk answers, accepting the task but not quite understanding the situation.
“Where are we going?” Allura asks as Romelle pulls her away from the lunch table, down the walkway toward the cafeteria exit.
Romelle looks back at Allura, and picks up her pace, taking them out of the cafeteria and into the empty hallway. She stops in front of a row of lockers and spins around to meet Allura face-to-face, dropping Allura’s arm. Allura dreads the conversation she knows she’s about to have. While she might have been able to avoid telling the others, Allura should have known that Romelle would have approached her sooner or later.
“I thought something was up when I asked Keith where you were and he completely ignored me. And now, you’re acting like this,” Romelle explains in a low voice. “Did something happen between you two?”
Allura winces at the accusation. Crossing her arms, she locks her eyes on the obnoxiously glittery senior prom poster from the corner of her eye. Allura takes a deep, shaky breath.
“I kissed Keith.”
“You what?!” Romelle shrieks, turning the head of a wide-eyed freshman as she walks by.
Allura frantically presses her hand against Romelle’s mouth.
“Shh! Not so loud!” Allura exclaims, her cheeks flushing darkly.
Romelle peels Allura’s hand off of her mouth, signaling her return to composure.
“You kissed Keith?” Romelle hisses, grabbing Allura’s arm again.
“It was at the party. After you left.”
Romelle starts to grin before she abruptly frowns. Allura raises an eyebrow at Romelle’s polarizing expressions.
“And then what happened?”
“He told me he was in love with me, but I…” Allura trails off, biting her lip. “I told him he was my best friend.”
Frustratingly for Allura, Romelle’s eyebrows furrow in deep contemplation. There’s something she’s missing, something Romelle isn’t telling her.
“Then I said it was a mistake and asked him to take me home,” Allura finishes impatiently. She forces a quick, nervous glance past her shoulder before returning to her perplexed friend standing in front of her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“So you’re not…Oh, Allura,” Romelle sighs.
“What?”
Romelle’s expression turns serious, and she stares at Allura long and hard. Allura feels uncomfortably hot, clutches the hem of her sweater.
Gently, slowly enough to soften the blow, Romelle explains the apparent elephant in the room.
“You know, we all kind of thought that maybe, you and Keith were already dating.”
The revelation stuns Allura entirely. Her jaw drops, her cheeks burn with a sudden flare of heat. She can’t control the jumpy pace of her heart either. Unfolding her arms, Allura gapes at Romelle’s enviously unaffected manner.
“Me and Keith? No way! I – I’m not, we’re not…we’re just friends,” Allura contends, trying to dispute Romelle’s wild claim.
“Are you?”
“Of course! A-and we like different people! Like Lotor. I dated Lotor. Keith has Acxa.”
The last few words leave a bitter taste in her mouth as Allura begrudgingly recollects the fleeting memory of Acxa confiding in Allura her crush on Keith at the party.
“That was so long ago. And Keith doesn’t like Acxa that way.”
“Keith and I are just friends. We hang out a lot because we’re friends. That’s it.”
“Have you seen yourselves these past three months after breaking up with Lotor? Even Lance thought your flirting was too much.”
“We don’t – we haven’t been…”
And suddenly, Allura remembers Lance’s comment so clearly, the way he had groaned with a cup of hot coffee in one hand when he had seen them in the courtyard. She’d been sitting in Keith’s lap, trying to fix his messy, unkempt hair after he’d overslept that morning. Lance had promptly asked them to cool it and proceeded to complain about the early morning before heading to class. His reaction had been so strange to her at the time that she had just shrugged it off.
Allura chews on her lower lip, refusing to rethink every late-night text, every casual arm around her shoulders; she pushes back as she recalls the perfectly innocent cuddles on the art room couch, at home, and the warm touches that she realizes now had perhaps been too easy, too much for the others.
She inhales sharply, having forgotten to breathe under the scrutinizing pressure.
“I’m Keith’s best friend. I’m not in love with him.”
She’s certain. She has to be.
“Have you ever thought that you could be both?”
---
KK
Keith >
4/23 4:47 PM
I didn’t see you at school today
I have so much to tell you
Imagine this: bubblegum, liquid nitrogen, and Iverson’s eyepatch
4/24 10:05 AM
So bored
Get me out of class?
4/25 1:34 PM
Keith?
4/27 8:19 PM
Sorry, I’ve been busy
Senior project
Oh, right
Good luck ♥
I miss you.
Read 8:22 PM
Today 10:36 PM
Can we talk?
---
Allura curls into herself across her bedsheets and stares and stares at the radio silence. Blankly. Waiting. Before she realizes it, the barren string of texts in front of her start to blur, and Allura rips herself away from the lonely brightness of her phone screen. She’s never cried over a dumb boy before and she refuses to start now, but she can’t stop the tears from brimming over and sinking into her pillowcase. She can’t lose her best friend. Not like this.
Pretending it never happened hadn’t worked.
And in all honesty, Allura doesn’t know why she had thought to pretend in the first place, when she can still remember, two weeks later, the magnetic purple gaze and the intoxicating taste of vodka infusing with her cherry pink lipstick. Her breath catches at the memory again, of Keith, the kiss, and how he had ruined their friendship. She bites her lip.
Stupid Keith. This is all his fault.
Her phone suddenly vibrates in her hand. Holding her breath, Allura glances at her lock screen.
Okay
Allura gasps softly, feeling heat rising in her cheeks. She sits up in her bed and hunches over the phone in her hands, letting her long, silver hair fall past her face and graze her lap. Typing anxiously, she sends a response.
Meet me at the park in 5 minutes
Allura reaches for the first jacket she sees, until she realizes it’s the one that Keith never reclaimed after last year’s Christmas party. She had since made it hers, wearing it on weekends when she had stayed in and read magazines, and once – no – twice to dance practice. Allura hesitates and draws her hand back. Then she grabs it, puts it on. The sleeves still fall past her wrists.
Tonight, under the cloudless sky, the moon is round and brilliantly golden, illuminating her path toward the park. When she walks, Allura can make out the deep green leaves of trees, even point out the mesquite tree at the corner that she’d dared Keith to climb when she was seven years old. He had climbed as high as his weight on thin branches would allow, and of course, Allura had taken his hand and followed. That adventure had ended with scraped chins and elbows, when Allura had been too scared to climb back down and jumped, shaking, into Keith’s arms on the ground.
From across the street, she sees him leaning against the wall next to the old, metal slide and staring blankly down at the gravel. Under the moonlight, half-obscured by darkness, Keith’s pale skin seems to glow. He’s so beautiful, and Allura understands now the racing of her heart, the shortness of breath she could never explain whenever he had looked at her, smiled at her, accepted her in his arms. Really, truthfully, all this time she had never thought of him as just a friend. Trying in vain to calm her nerves, she gently rubs her flushed cheeks and takes a deep breath.
She steps forward.
“Why are you frowning?”
Allura’s quiet voice startles Keith out of his thoughts. His head shoots up, nearly colliding into hers. She’s bending down and peering up at him curiously. He stares at her with wide eyes. He knows she remembers it too.
Keith quickly stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“I…wasn’t.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
She steps back with a small, teasing smile. She has to tilt her head up to face him properly. Keith looks at her speechlessly.
“You’re also really bad at pretending you’re not avoiding me.”
“Sorry! I wasn’t trying – I didn’t mean to!” Keith blurts out. “I just…I needed time.”
“I know,” Allura replies softly. “I was really annoyed before…but that was just because I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, calmer this time. “I won’t do it again. Not talking to you has been awful.”
Allura cracks a grin and carefully tucks her hair behind her ear.
“Of course it has. I’m the most interesting thing in your life.”
Keith laughs, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He starts to reach out for her, but stops himself before Allura can react. Instead, he lets his arms fall down either side of him and looks away.
“You are.”
Allura swallows nervously, trying to make sure she says her next words right.
“Keith, about what I said at the party…”
“You were right. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Eyes widening, Allura shakes her head furiously.
“No, I was wrong. Listen, earlier that night, Acxa told me something I didn’t want to hear, and I got really upset. But it wasn’t her fault. It was mine.”
“What?”
Keith immediately straightens, looking concerned.
“And do you remember when Darcy got really aggravated when Lizzie mentions Wickham after he had just confessed to her in the rain? I was like that.”
“Wait, hold on –”
“Let me finish. Basically, I was jealous. Because you kissed Acxa even though you just saw her as a friend and not…and not me.”
“Allura…”
She’s sure she’s blushing hard now because her skin feels like it’s on fire, but she has to explain herself. She needs him to understand. She places her hand across her chest and slowly takes another deep breath.
“What I’m trying to say is, I wanted you to kiss me that night. But I didn’t know it then. So I told you it was a mistake.”
Allura grabs his hand, and it’s cold and bare, chilled by late night April breeze. Keith curiously follows her gaze as her eyes wander down Keith’s face and linger on his lips. His breath catches in his throat when he sees a flash of desire in the color of crystal blue. He brings his other hand to Allura’s face and gently smooths her cheek. He’s more than relieved when Allura leans into his touch. When she looks back up, he does too.
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
“It wasn’t?”
“You’re my best friend in the whole world. I like it when we talk all night long and that you always know how to make me happy. I like it when you hug me and run your fingers through my hair and look at me like I’m important to you. But most of all, I really liked it when we did this.”
She takes a small step forward and lightly presses her lips against his. He tastes like electric mint, home, and cosmic stars. Kissing him is just as wonderful and thrilling as she remembers. Smiling shyly against his lips, Allura pulls back while she can still control herself and lets Keith process everything she’s told him. She wants to remember every second of this. Keith stares at her for a moment, and gradually, a grin emerges on his face.
“Do you remember what I said after?” he asks, smirking now. Allura would be infuriated if she didn’t think it made him look incredibly attractive. So, she plays along and pretends to think.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I said I was in love with you.”
He lets go of her hand and slides his arm around her waist, pulls her incredibly close. Allura gasps and she thinks she can hear the sound of her heart exercising rapidly inside her chest. She places her hands on his shoulders.
“What about now?”
“I’m still in love with you,” he responds quietly.
Allura could say that he steals her heart with that confession, but she supposes – has an inkling – that maybe it’d always been his. She’ll have to ask him, later, when exactly he had given her his own. What she wants to say next comes to her so easily.
“I love you too. But Keith?”
He looks at her expectantly.
“I have a question.”
Allura runs her hands up and around to the back of Keith’s neck. To further stress her intention, she makes sure he sees her lick her lips, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. Brushing past her ear, Keith lifts his hand from her cheek and into her hair.
“Ask it.”
“Can I kiss you again already?”
---
and i know i’ve kissed you before, but
i didn’t do it right
can i try again, try again, try again?
pairing: keith/allura
words: like 4,500
rating: explicit
an extended scene from take my hand, take my whole life too
“Allura,” says Keith. The inexplicable soft timbre of his low voice sends an involuntary shiver down Allura’s spine, convincing her to look away harder. Keith takes the mug out of her hands without warning, and Allura snaps her head back in disbelief.
“What are you –”
Keith’s heated hand finds the back of Allura’s neck, his fingers pushing back her tangled hair. Allura reacts before she understands, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. Keith pulls her impossibly close, and her eyes flutter shut as Keith tilts her head, ready to catch her parted lips.
---
Keith steals Allura’s breath away with a searing hot kiss and makes her see stars. His hand, firm against the small of her back, keeps her hips pressed against his. Allura deepens the kiss, parting their lips wider until their tongues inevitably clash. When Keith roughly bites down her lower lip, she grins and runs an excited hand through his bedridden hair.
Suddenly, Keith tears away from the kiss, latching instead onto her neck, still blemished in faint red from the night before. Already breathless, Allura gasps and tightens her grip on his hair as Keith appreciates every inch of her skin. Then, hungry for his delectable, soft lips again, she pulls his head back and devours them. Lost in her senses, Allura grinds against Keith, eliciting from him a weak groan, and a smirk grows on her face when his hand falls from her neck and under her oversized shirt.
His cool hand runs up her chest, sending a rousing shiver down her spine. Allura deliberately leans back without breaking their kiss, and Keith quickly responds by cupping her breast. He squeezes her gently and Allura inhales sharply against Keith’s lips at the welcome grope.
She had been so satiated just moments before, but now she needs more of his touch, if she’s ever going to last three long weeks without him. Before she gives in completely, she hastily recalls that four hours is plenty of time. She whimpers when the hand on her breast squeezes her harder. She can still make her flight back to school.
Allura relinquishes her hold on Keith’s hair and swiftly finds the waistband of Keith’s loose pajama pants. She eagerly slips her hand inside, finding him already hardening as her fingers travel down his length. As they wrap around him, Keith lets out a low grunt and jerks forward, the tip of him twitching under thin fabric between Allura’s legs. Pleased with his reaction, Allura abruptly breaks off the kiss and meeting Keith’s increasingly frustrated eyes, begins pumping him expeditiously.
“‘Lura, we don’t have time,” Keith rasps, leaning back against the counter, his other hand maneuvering under her shirt. Allura momentarily lets go of him and pauses as Keith pulls her shirt over her head, dropping it onto the floor. His words betray his actions.
Allura gives him a sly smile, grabbing his waistband with both hands and pulling it down as she sinks to her knees. She looks up at Keith as she takes him again, massive in her small hand. Mischievously, she licks her lips.
“Think of it as a challenge.”
At once, Keith’s concerned expression turns daring. His hands grip the edge of the counter in lustful anticipation. Without another word, Allura leans in and slides his cock deep inside her mouth. Keith groans at the warm, wet contact, and one hand leaves the counter and dives into Allura’s silver hair. Keeping her head in place, he forces himself further down her throat but deftly stops just before where Allura would start to gag.
Placing her hand over his on the counter, Allura begins moving, swallowing him repeatedly, expertly, and she feels him harden inside her mouth. She slides him out of her mouth, admiring briefly her work before gravitating back to him. She captures his tip and swirls her tongue around its circumference, causing Keith to grunt and desperately pull her hair as a signal of pleasure. Before she finally releases him, she slides him inside her mouth one last time and runs her tongue down his length, vulgar thoughts of its entirety sheathed inside her beginning to cloud her mind.
She separates from his cock, exposing a clear, viscous string from his tip to her lips. Aware of the wetness in her underwear now, Allura looks up at Keith and grins. Keith’s jaw slightly drops at the sight of her. Allura removes her hand from the counter, but Keith seems to read her mind, and before she can touch herself, he steps out of his pants and picks her up by the waist. He spins them around and sets her down on the counter.
The cold, sterile surface meshes with her heated skin, and Allura leans her head back against the cupboard. Keith follows her recline, launching a deep, surprise kiss as he feels for her underwear. He runs his hand first past the damp fabric, and Allura shudders. Smirking against her lips, Keith quickly finds the thin waistband and tugs. Breaking off the kiss, leaving Allura breathless, he throws away her underwear somewhere far. Biting her lip eagerly, Allura stares intently into Keith’s eyes and spreads her legs for him.
Meeting her gaze, refusing to look away, Keith pulls off his sweater and tosses it aside. With his hands back on her waist to stabilize her, Keith gets down on his knees. Reaching out, Allura runs a hand through his hair.
“I love you,” he says softly, before burying his head between her legs and catching her tender folds with his lips.
Allura gasps sharply and shuts her eyes as her hands fly to the edge of the counter to hold on. She wraps her legs around Keith’s shoulders, encouraging him closer.
“Keith…” she breathes, urging him on.
He responds by venturing deeper, relentlessly ravishing her core with his sensuous kisses. Allura moans when he inserts his tongue inside her, parting her entrance and lapping up her sweet juices as they discharge out of her. Feeling hot and impatient, Allura reactively rolls her hips against him, trying to convey to him her need. She feels him grin against her, and she watches him as he slowly stand back up. The rush of fresh, cold air in the space between them leaves her feeling raw.
Allura pouts, making Keith only grin wider.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want,” he explains in a low voice.
He leans in and captures her with a surging kiss. His lips are wet and sticky, coated with the taste of her. Allura wraps a hand around Keith’s neck at the same time he slides two fingers deep inside of her. Allura’s hips jerk and she moans into his mouth. Keith familiarly trails his fingers slowly up and down her ridges, causing Allura to arch her back. For a moment, he draws his fingers out. Panting, Allura wraps her arms around his neck and collapses onto him. Keith lovingly kisses her shoulder, and without warning, jabs his fingers inside her, hooking up and pressing them hard against her walls. Clenching instinctually, Allura cries with intense pleasure.
Keith starts repeating the motion with strong, paced thrusts, making sure to reach the exact same spot every time and peppering light kisses down her neck. With every drive inside her overly sensitive walls, Allura gasps and whimpers with escalating desire to be filled again and again. Keith’s thumb finds her clit and rubs it incessantly in debauched circles. Allura moans sharply, her toes curling and legs wrapping tighter around Keith’s looming body. She feels her walls contracting beyond her control. She swallows, so deprived of air in her chest.
“Keith, please, I need you,” she says, her voice weak, barely audible.
After a final thrust of his fingers, Keith pulls out of her. Turning her body back to face him, he cups her head with his hands and kisses her ardently. Allura places her hands over his, compelled to part their lips and deepen the kiss. Her legs release their hold on him, and Allura immediately reaches down between them and pumps him urgently in her hand, thumbing over his leaking tip.
Keith groans and bites down on Allura’s lip before ending the kiss. His chest heaving, his glazed eyes quickly scan the counter and he decides to push their full coffee mugs, too close for comfort, aside. Returning back to Allura, he grabs her and sets her down on her feet.
“Turn around,” he commands breathlessly.
Allura’s eyes brighten with devious excitement, and she abides his request. Bending over and steadying herself, Allura settles into position, her flat stomach against the counter. She yelps in surprise when Keith’s hands find her breasts, his body pressed against her back. She turns around to look at him, only for Keith to lower his head and kiss her cheek. He gently collects her hair and brushes it to the side.
“We’ll be sitting in traffic if we’re not out of this apartment in an hour,” he teases quietly in her ear, planting another kiss in the crevice of her neck. Allura giggles and slides a hand around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Let’s take the motorcycle then,” she suggests casually. Lifting the heels of her feet, she grinds her ready entrance against his cock, hard and erect between her legs. Keith inhales sharply at the contact, forcefully clasping her breasts before he brings his hands down to her hips. He pulls her slightly away from the counter, spreading her legs just enough for easy entrance.
“With that suitcase of yours? Not happening,” he retorts with a hint of laughter. He takes his length and guides it to her soaked folds.
“Fine, then,” Allura starts, clearly exasperated. “We can just – oh shit.”
With one, swift thrust, Keith buries himself to the hilt within her, her supple walls stretching to accommodate his girth. Allura emits a harsh, wonderful moan at the sensation of Keith so fully and deeply embedded in her. Enveloped in tight, intoxicating heat, Keith groans and jerks his hips forward, causing Allura to moan again and slam a hand against the cupboard as he drives himself deeper inside her.
Keith takes Allura’s other hand and leads it to her navel. Firmly holding her in place, Keith slowly draws himself out of her. He leaves the tip of him at her entrance and Allura whines timidly at the agonizing emptiness, turning to face him. Keith smirks, strengthening his grip on her hips. A soft gasp escapes Allura’s mouth, and before Allura can adjust her stance, Keith plunges his entire length into her with a force that sends a shock through Allura’s entire body and weakens her knees. Allura loudly moans Keith’s name at his thrust.
He pulls out slowly again, and just as Allura thinks she can’t wait any longer, he pounds back into her. Keith’s thrusts are long, powerful, overwhelming, and Allura cries each time they seem to reach the end of her. His thrusts only seem to grow harder as they go on, rawing the very depths of her core. Allura starts to feel her walls contract violently, and when Keith thrusts into her once more, Allura screams and reaches her climax. Fully aware of her release, Keith doesn’t stop and thrusts again, letting her fluids drench him and seep out of her entrance.
“Keith,” she calls out to him, her voice a breathless whisper.
Wanting to see the carnal fire in his violet eyes, she finds it difficult to keep her gaze on him, her senses burning in overdrive. She can tell he’s looking at her too, and Allura bites her lip, managing a small smile.
In an instant, he rushes to her, thrusting deeply and drawing out another moan from Allura’s throat. He leans in and captures her lips with his own. Allura kisses him hungrily, desperately. Keith begins a series of strong, quick thrusts, pounding into her as they exchange uneven gasps of breath between them. Eventually, Allura’s neck strains and she whimpers at the increasing soreness.
Sensing her discomfort, Keith pulls out of her and carefully turns her around, sits her back up on the counter. Allura grabs Keith’s head in her hands and spreads her legs widely in gratitude. Keith steps into her, and then brings her hips to the edge of the counter. They find each other in another fervent kiss, with Allura’s hands tangled in Keith’s hair. Keith’s hand lowers to her saturated folds, feeling for her wetness and rubbing her clit delicately. Allura sighs pleasantly against Keith’s lips, lightly throwing her head back as she gladly accepts the erogenous stimulation.
His hand leaves her too soon, but is immediately replaced when Keith slides himself back inside her with no resistance. Allura’s breath hitches at this new angle and she wraps her legs around him, needing him closer. Keith resumes his deep thrusts, sinking further and further into her each time, and Allura discovers a newfound urgency festering inside her.
Needing air, Allura rips herself away from Keith’s addicting lips, and she gasps. Without Allura’s lips, Keith pushes forward and claims her neck instead. Allura whimpers, pressing his head harder against her neck. Panting heavily, Allura looks down in the space between them and watches with shameless fascination as Keith’s whole length is received by her body and easily disappears inside her over and over again.
“You feel so good, Allura,” Keith breathes against her neck, suddenly slamming his cock into her and starting to thrust at a faster pace.
Allura cries with surprised pleasure and closes her legs around him even tighter.
“Don’t stop,” Allura responds, shutting her eyes and allowing herself to be completely consumed by Keith’s rough movements inside her.
Keith swears under his breath and abruptly grabs Allura’s waist.
“Hold on,” he tells her, thrusting himself entirely with a sharp finality.
Allura throws her arms around him without question, and Keith’s hand finds the small of her back and firmly presses against her to keep her in place. His other arm wraps around her shoulders, and Allura takes the opportunity to kiss him deeply. Keith returns the kiss as he carefully picks her up, grunts, and starts walking them back to his room.
Allura giggles and indulges in the thrill of moving together as one. She jerks her hips forward, grinding hard against Keith’s skin and feeling him twitch inside her. Keith nearly chokes when Allura grinds again, barely making it back to his bedroom when he throws her onto the bed.
“Fuck, Allura, you’re going to be the death of me,” Keith laments breathlessly, looking down at Allura and climbing onto the mattress to join her.
Knowing Keith’s normal lack of tendency to swear, even in the most stressful situations, Allura’s heart wildly skips a beat. She grins at him sheepishly, but unapologetically as she pushes herself backward until her head meets a pillow.
“A pretty good way to die, then,” she replies, playing along.
A smirk emerges on Keith’s face as he spreads her legs and settles between them. He falls with his hands pressed on either side of her, staring at her with enamored eyes. Suddenly feeling shy, Allura reaches up and cups his face.
“I suppose,” he answers quietly. “I love you so much, Allura.”
Keith lowers his hips then, and slowly, lovingly sinks into her until she’s completely full of him. Her heart racing, feeling sixteen again, like she had been their first time together, Allura bites her lip.
“I love you, too,” she says, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks.
Keith responds with a hard thrust and leans forward to capture Allura’s lips mid-moan, swallowing the sultry sound of her pleasure. Allura gasps and instinctively wraps her legs around his back as Keith begins to urgently and unceasingly pound into her most sensitive spot. Desperate for air, Allura breaks off the kiss and moans helplessly in time with his thrusts. Keith’s lips find the crevice of Allura’s neck, leaving hot, starving kisses against her smooth brown skin. Needing more of him, Allura squeezes her walls tightly around his hard, moving length and Keith grunts loudly, aggressively ramming himself into her and nearly shoving Allura up the bed.
Allura hastily grabs his shoulders and cries sharply at Keith’s exhilarating force, only for her walls to willingly constrict around him tighter than ever. Keith gasps and groans, turns to look at Allura with eyes full of bottomless desire. They lock their gazes on one another, as Keith continues to thrust inside her and Allura’s senses drown in the most intimate culmination of their love. One of her hands runs across Keith’s broad shoulders as the other slides down to the small of his back, inviting him to claim her entirely. She doesn’t know how much longer she can last.
“Keith, I can’t…” she manages to say, before sounding a gasping moan when Keith drives into her once more.
Keith’s lips find Allura’s again, parting them instantly and kissing them feverishly. Allura’s hands run up his neck, yank at the wisps of Keith’s dark hair. Desperately, Allura arches her back and starts rolling her hips in perfect time with Keith’s powerful thrusts. Ignited by the unbearable friction, Keith growls and reaches down, slamming Allura’s hips against him, wanting nothing more in that moment than to fuck her senseless and force her release.
He pushes himself up and his thrusts become increasingly fast and erratic, possessing Allura over and over with reckless abandon. Allura cries out sharply, writhing and rolling her hips harder. Pleading into Keith’s eyes, she claws into and tugs at the disheveled bedsheets. Keith abruptly bucks his hips forward, digging into Allura at a new, piercing angle that sends her over the edge. Allura’s hands quickly clutch Keith’s arms, and she gasps and mouths a silent scream as she surrenders to absolute ecstasy, clenching intensely and exuding her flowing essence. Keith gasps sharply, thrusting two more times before he buries himself fully inside Allura and shoots his white, hot seed against her obliging walls. Allura moans weakly at Keith’s incredible depth. She contentedly feels him continue to twitch and pulse inside her, and wanting his embrace, she reaches out for him.
Keith gently falls into her arms and closes the space between them with a soft, longing kiss. Closing her eyes, Allura graciously wraps her arms around his neck and loses herself in their affectionate exchange. Their tired, but insistent lips part and Keith takes no time in deepening the kiss. Allura moans softly against him, delicately biting down on his lower lip. Keith reaches between them and caresses Allura’s breast, then slowly glides his hand down her chest, to her waist, then her leg. Carefully, keeping their position tight, he lifts her leg over his and rolls their bodies onto their sides. He pulls the covers over their glistening, connected bodies.
Allura smiles and sighs pleasantly as they continue to kiss and bask in the aftermath of their passionate, impulsive copulation, the physical evidence of their intimacy still pooled inside her. When they briefly separate to breathe, Allura’s eyes slowly flutter open. She looks deep into Keith’s beautiful, dark violet eyes and cups his cheek.
“How could I ever leave now, when you make me feel so good?” Allura asks quietly. “I just want to be with you.”
Keith laughs, and Allura thinks it’s the loveliest sound in the whole world. If she could wish for anything at all, she would wish to wake up to this laughter every morning, to be adored like this, to spend the rest of her life with him.
Allura’s eyes widen when she realizes the natural implications of her own thoughts. Keith gently brushes away the hair in her face and rests his hand on her waist.
“Not just for my body, I hope.”
She giggles and shakes her head.
“Of course not. I love every part of you.”
“I love you too.”
Allura leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips. Keith quickly pulls her back in and kisses her deeply. The passion lights up fireworks inside her heart and Allura easily returns the kiss, sliding her hand into his hair and pressing her chest against his. They drink in stolen, uneven breaths as their mouths lock and move together. A fire ignites below her stomach, and Allura begins to roll her hips. Still hard and deeply rooted inside her, Keith’s cock stabs her with every slight movement. Keith groans against Allura’s lips, his hand’s grip on her waist tightening.
Feeling warm fluid leaking out of her, dripping down her inner thigh, Allura whimpers. Keith briefly deepens the kiss, as if to swallow Allura’s discontent, before he breaks off and stares at her with wide, burning eyes.
“I don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he tells her urgently.
Before Allura can answer, his hand slides across her back to push her up, and Keith starts thrusting into her at a moderate pace, pushing the rest of their mixed juices out of her and onto the sheets. Allura gasps and moans when she feels Keith move inside her again, stretching out and digging into her aching walls, generating less resistance with each thrust. Her arms clasp around the back of Keith’s shoulders.
“Slow. I want it slow. I want to feel every inch of you,” Allura instructs him breathlessly.
Keith nods wordlessly. His thrusts become excruciating. Getting exactly what she had asked for, Allura feels herself close and expand for Keith as he deliberately retreats himself until only the very tip of him remains, and then gradually reenters her, penetrating and savoring her inch by inch, gasping when he reaches the end of her.
“Oh, fuck,” Allura whispers, biting her lip and hiding her face in Keith’s chest.
His pace is tormenting, creating a friction that sends bright, electrifying sparks throughout her body. Allura whimpers and falls defenselessly into her thoughts and senses, all converging on the immeasurable pleasure of Keith’s strong, measured thrusts and the low grunts emerging from his chest. She offers her body completely, as if it were made to receive him, and her soul, bound to him over lifetimes. Breathing in short bursts, she stifles the impassioned moans trying to escape her throat.
“Look at me, Lu,” says Keith softly.
Against her better judgement, Allura shyly lifts her head, meets his intent gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. Unable to look away from Keith’s smoldering, entrancing eyes, Allura’s chest tightens and she presses their bodies impossibly close. Keith suddenly drives deep into her with a swift thrust, forcing a sharp moan out of her.
He starts to pick up his pace, thrusting into her with slick, effortless ease. Allura moans ceaselessly with his thrusts, forgoing all of her girlish inhibitions. Keith stares down at her with an animalistic pride, thrusting faster and faster as Allura’s moans grow louder and desperate. Digging her fingernails into his back, Allura begins to ride him furiously, trying to keep up with Keith’s rapid pace.
Keith slams himself into her, skin slapping skin, and Allura emits a hoarse cry, her toes curling. Her body trembles and Allura jerks her hips forward, begging Keith for more as their bodies hurriedly, insistently grind and move as one. Keith pounds into her, and Allura’s walls violently contract. Nearly over the edge, Allura cries Keith’s name and starts muttering colorful words of pleasure as he drives into her again and again.
Lifting his hand, Keith combs his fingers through Allura’s long, tousled hair, tugging her locks and lifting her head up. Their lips meet in a fierce kiss, tongues clashing as they fight for dominance. Keith shoves himself inside her with a hard, quick thrust and Allura’s hips tense and shudder, feeling Keith’s cock jolt inside her violently throbbing walls. Barely registering her own climax, Allura gasps as Keith comes inside of her, drenching her with his molten conceit.
He pulls her leg toward him to keep her in place until he finishes his release. Allura grins against his lips, understanding his subtle intentions. Finally sated, their kiss turns light and lethargic. Keith’s hand slides up her chest, away from her leg, but Allura makes no indication of separating, not ready to let him go just yet. After moments pass, she breaks off the kiss to catch her breath and looks into Keith’s warm eyes.
“You’re perfect,” he says.
He leans in and kisses her temple under sweat-soaked bangs.
Allura laughs and snuggles into his chest.
“I know I am.”
Keith glides his hand down and lovingly strokes Allura’s back. Allura sighs pleasantly into his skin.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she eventually adds, forgetting to sound playful in her exhaustion.
Keith smiles, gazing down in adoration at the mess of silver hair and the delicate, slender body cradled in his arms. Gently, he pulls out of her soft chamber, covered in their warm substance, and Allura winces, carefully drawing her leg back to her side. Now empty and unstretched, Allura feels gladly spent and sore.
“You should go shower first,” Keith suggests, quietly picking out loose strands of Allura’s hair.
“Oh? Care to join me?” Allura teases in response.
Keith stops and pushes her away from his chest to face her with a look of mock seriousness. Allura bats her eyes innocently, incompatible with the delighted smirk of her lips. Keith resists the urge to play along.
“No, I’m going to go finish making breakfast first because it’s –” Keith peers over her, his eyes widening at the time on the digital clock across the room, “ – way too late to still be in bed.”
Allura pouts as Keith releases her from his hold and sits up in bed.
“What time is it?”
“10:30.”
“We had sex for nearly an hour?!” Allura gasps, pushing herself up. “This is your fault.”
Keith turns to her in feigned shock.
“My fault?”
“For being so good in bed,” Allura explains, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. She grabs a pillow and lightly throws it at Keith’s chest.
Keith grins, catching the pillow in his arms. He pounces onto Allura, pushing her back onto the mattress. Allura shrieks and bursts into giggles as Keith presses his lips against her neck, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses until he reaches Allura’s full, plush lips. Allura smiles, cupping his face and kissing him back fervently. He gently ends the kiss far too soon, taking Allura’s breath away with him.
“If that’s the case, then I accept full responsibility,” he declares breathlessly.
He kisses her softly again, grazing her lower lip with his teeth as he detaches.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“Go shower. If you’re ready in 15 minutes, I promise, the next time I see you, I’ll…” he leans in, whispering into Allura’s ear exactly what he plans to do with her in her college apartment should she meet his condition. Eyes widening, Allura gasps and flushes dark red.
“I’m going,” Allura whines, shoving him out of the way and hopping out of bed. She bites her lip, staring down at him before she heads to the bathroom. “You better make me a new cup of coffee.”
Hi, I really love your writing! The one about them being best friends and kissing at a party, are you going to make a part 2 of that? 😀
thank you so much! yes i’ve started part 2~ i’ve finally FINALLY met all my assignment deadlines this week so now i actually have time to focus on it lol
and i hear my heart breaking tonight
i hear my heart breaking tonight
do you hear it too?
---
Allura’s not quite sure if the floor is spinning. It’s definitely not her head. Someone had messed with the playlist, and now the vague beats of a sappy pop song blasting in the other room dance in her ears. Her palms press against the wall when she leans back casually, giggling furiously over Keith’s brutally honest comments on the current state of suburban high school party affairs. She likes this. She had forgotten how fun and so easy it was to be with Keith, and in the three months since she had broken up with Lotor, they’d become inseparable.
When Allura looks up, Keith has his arm next to her against the wall, staring down at her with a strikingly contented smile that recently she’s found sends her heart racing. She’s seen this look on him before, like she’s the only girl in the world. It’s only natural, after all, when they’ve been best friends for over ten years. Allura bites her lower lip and grins, her cheeks flush – it has to be the alcohol – as she daringly meets the intensity of his gaze.
“You’re one to talk. You’re at a high school party right now,” she quips in amusement.
“I never said I wasn’t complicit.”
“Sure, but that makes you a bit of a hypocrite, don’t you think?” Allura teases, removing a hand from the wall and grabbing onto the side of Keith’s black bomber jacket.
Keith freezes, his eyes darkening, and he takes a step forward between her legs. This close, even in this dimly lit hallway, Allura can see the faint reddish glow spread across Keith’s face.
“I am a hypocrite,” he says quietly, not looking away from her.
“Keith, I…” Allura starts, forgetting what she had wanted to say. Her eyes fall on his lips.
They look soft, inviting.
Only because he’s so close.
Are they as soft as they look?
Her chest feels tight.
She wonders if Acxa ever thinks about Keith’s lips.
As Keith’s most trusted friend, Allura decides, it’s her own responsibility to find the objective truth.
So she stands on the tips of her toes, impulsively tugs his jacket toward her, closes her eyes and presses her lips against his. The adrenaline surges through Keith’s body all at once and he pushes Allura back hard against the wall and returns the kiss. Heart pounding, Allura gasps from the force knocking the air out of her chest, and Keith uses the opportunity to capture her parted lips with his own. Allura melts into the thrilling sensation of Keith’s lips against hers, forgoing all inhibitions. Leaning in, needing him closer, Allura throws her arms around his neck, and emboldened by her touch, Keith grabs Allura’s waist with his free arm.
“Allura,” he breathes, pausing hesitantly to speak against her lips. “I need to tell you.”
Allura whines, desperately wanting the connection, wanting more. Standing no chance against her wishes, Keith relents and kisses her again deeply, fervently until she runs her hand along his neck and he reactively bites down on her lip. She bursts into flames.
“Don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”
And as quickly as the flames had erupted, they extinguish, leaving only the wretched rhythm of her fast-beating heart. Her eyes flutter open when their lips stop moving and Keith takes a careful step back, his expression unreadable.
“What do you mean?” she asks weakly, short of breath. She doesn’t dare look him in the eye. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows exactly what he means.
“Why did you kiss me?”
“I…” Allura swallows. “I just felt like it.”
“I can’t do this,” Keith admits, his voice breaking. He lets go of her, and Allura has never felt so cold.
“Why not?”
“I think you know why.”
Allura bites her lip.
“No, I don’t.”
“Allura, look at me.”
She turns to face him, taking in the turbulent frustration, the sadness of Keith’s dark violet eyes.
“I’m in love with you.”
Her heart stirs, evoking within her the right words to say, but she's not that brave.
(71. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss) ( ♥ )
---
The cuffs on his wrists are too stiff, his black leather shoes too new. His blatant disregard for formalities and polite appearances is no secret, so he’s been forbidden from touching his tie, too straight and too tight around his neck.
At this very moment, there’s a place where Keith would rather be. Small talk doesn’t come naturally to him, and after the ninth handshake and fifth clap on the back, he forgets the names and faces of those that approach him. He doesn’t feel too guilty about it either. Alone, surrounded by people and strangers, the isolation stings harder. Maybe he should run.
Recalling approximately three people who would throw a fit if he does convinces him otherwise.
This strange feeling, having anchored inside his gut and spread under his skin like a searing infection, puts Keith on edge. He gazes past the wooden arch, decorated in climbing blue moon and alba roses so beautifully intertwined with silver silk ribbon. In front of him, the attractive edge of the terrace tempts escape into the secluded forest that stretches out farther than he can see. Miles and miles away from the city, he wonders how bright the stars shine at night on this mountain. Keith swallows a bitter laugh. He loves it here. It’s almost unfair how well she knows him.
Sitting now on a crafted white chair in the corner, Keith looks up at the brilliant canopy of ancient redwood trees, catching gaps of orange sunlight in the spaces between dark leaves as if light and foliage were the intricately matched pieces of a puzzle of the sky. If he closes his eyes and drowns out the lively chatter echoing in his ears, he can hear the gentle breeze and the calls of wild birds. For as long as the hauntingly impassive trees have lived, they will also remain long after the last of his memory is gone. The gravity of his own insignificance humbles him.
On a day where everything is supposed to go wrong, it’s too perfect. He’s going to be sick.
Breathe, you idiot, Keith tells himself, falling back and hitting bone against the hard varnished surface of his chair.
He first meets her under the same tangerine sun, on the hot steel slide in the park outside his house. He still remembers the rose-colored ribbons holding her braids in place, and how much he wanted to pull them.
In the summer, when his father has a two-day shift and Shiro and his parents are far away in Japan, Keith plays at the neighborhood park until his mother comes home from her job. Nearly dusk, Keith is listless by his sixteenth time down the only slide. When his feet land on the gravel again, he stops and sprawls against the scratched metal surface, facing fantastical silhouettes in the form of dark pink clouds.
One passing cloud in particular looks like a husky puppy, and Keith starts to think that maybe he should remind his parents one more time that he wants a dog for his birthday. He’s old enough now, to be responsible for a pet. He would feed, water, and walk him every day. He wouldn’t even mind cleaning up after him. All he needs is a name. Keith struggles as he tries to decide the perfect name for his future dog.
“Why are you frowning?”
A sweet, high-pitched voice startles him out of his thoughts. Keith’s eyes widen when he finds a pair of bright, crystal blue eyes peering down at him.
“Are you sulking? Daddy says people sulk when they get rejected. Did all of your friends leave you?” the girl with a funny accent inquires, tilting her head curiously.
Stunned, Keith’s jaw drops a little. He’s never seen this girl before in his life.
“What – no! I wasn’t sulking!” Keith answers defensively and glares. He sits up faster than the girl can lean back, but she casually stands her ground, blinking innocently.
“You were frowning though. What were you thinking about?” she presses on, seemingly unaffected by Keith’s reaction.
“I –” Keith falters as he continues staring at this strange, but very pretty girl in front of him. Reminded of his train of thought from earlier, he blushes and averts his gaze. “A dog. For my birthday. But I don’t know if my parents will get me one.”
The girl gasps in excitement and grabs his arm. Keith’s eyes nervously flicker down at the small hand holding him.
“When’s your birthday?! Is it soon?”
He looks back up at her.
“October 23rd.”
“My birthday’s in September, so I’m older. I’m four and ten months,” the girl responds proudly.
Keith grins, feeling the urge to tease.
“I’m turning six.”
Clear disappointment washes over her face as she pouts, and Keith’s grin grows wider.
“Hmph, well,” the girl starts, letting go of Keith’s arm and almost shyly hiding her hand behind her sundress. “That means you go to school, right?”
“Yeah, I’m in first grade.”
“I’m starting kindergarten. I don’t know anybody yet because I just moved here. Will you be my friend? And then you can introduce me to your friends.”
“Oh.”
“What? Don’t you like me?” the girl snaps, crossing her arms and apparently offended.
“No, it’s just…” Keith trails off. He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t really have friends either, besides Shiro, who’s in middle school. Fixating on the worn soles of his faded red sneakers, he contemplates his answer.
“Just what?”
“I wouldn’t be a very good friend. I only have one friend and his name is Shiro.” He can’t lie to her.
She giggles, and Keith doesn’t know what else to say.
“It’s okay if you just have one friend. I still want to be your friend anyway.”
Studying her expression, he quirks an eyebrow.
“Well, if you want to be my friend, you have to tell me your name first. I’m Keith.”
Relieved and eyes radiant, the girl beams brightly at him.
“I’m Allura.”
There’s one more condition.
“And you have to love racing.”
“I love racing!”
Allura extends her hand out, waiting expectantly, to the boy she’s just met with storming violet eyes, and all Keith knows is to accept it with his. So easily, so naturally like air, Allura enters Keith’s life. In this and every lifetime, he believes, she grabs his hand and pulls him into her like two halves of a heart reuniting into one.
Keith Kogane comes to a stirring realization on a snowy Sunday morning.
The sharp chill of not-yet sunrise reaching his chest, uncovered in his sleep, wakes him. With tired, but open eyes, Keith languidly rolls to his side, glancing out the frosted windows and assuredly back to her, buried deep under the covers and sleeping soundly. The edges of his lips curl into a slight smile as he quietly reaches out to lightly tuck wavy, silver bangs behind Allura’s ear. Before he leaves the heat and comfort of his bed, for a little while at least, he stays with her, pushing away thoughts of kissing her awake.
Finally, he relents. Carefully, he sits up and makes a half-hearted attempt to fix his side of the tangled sheets. He finds his pajama bottoms on the floor, a loose college sweater on his desk chair, and dresses as he shuffles out the door.
His apartment in the city is nothing to write home about, but it’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer. More importantly, he can actually afford it while retaining decent access to public transportation.
He keeps the apartment clean and tidy, buys enough groceries for a week. The furnishings are inherited, sturdy, and the homely white walls are graciously thick. Keith likes to think it’s a fine apartment, all things said, but Allura complains about how the apartment looks barely lived in and buys a new piece of home decor every time she visits, because save for some books, his art supplies, and a few personal items in his room, Keith has to admit that she’s right.
While mentally mapping out his schedule for the day, Keith nearly runs into Allura’s most recent purchase, a potted young jasmine plant placed at the corner of the hallway, before he swerves and heads straight to the cool kitchen counter. In the kitchen, his first line of business is plugging in the coffee brewer. After measuring the grounds and placing them in the filter, he starts the machine. Following routine, he makes his way to the refrigerator, pulling out a nearly empty container of hazelnut creamer, cane sugar, and leftover pizza, and soon the warm, sour scent of brewed coffee floods the apartment.
Keith yawns as he waits for the coffee to finish, turning his head and taking the sight of a massive pile of freshly-washed clothes on the couch in stride. When the brewer beeps, Keith grabs the two ceramic mugs left to dry on the dishrack, placing them down in front of him.
After filling the mugs, Keith reaches out without looking for the creamer, stiffening for a moment when a pair of smooth, slight arms snake around his chest. Once the surprise fades, he empties the creamer container of its contents into the pink mug.
“Mhm, you’re warm. Don’t forget sugar,” Allura sighs pleasantly, hiding her face in the crook of Keith’s neck.
Glancing back at her, Keith smirks and deadpans, “Wear more clothes.”
Wordlessly, he adds the exact three and a half teaspoons of sugar to the coffee. Allura pretends to consider his suggestion, humming thoughtfully.
“No, I like it better this way.”
“Fine,” Keith resolves with amusement, grabbing her wrist and tugging her arm tighter around him.
Allura’s soft laugh, her subsequent sweet thank you for the coffee seep into his skin, and Keith’s heart skips a beat and pounds in his chest. His eyes widen, staring down at steam slowly rising like daybreak from their mugs. It’s true, what they say. He just knows.
“Hey, Allura,” he says quietly, slowly.
He’s aware he’s impulsive.
“Hm?”
He wants to say it.
“Let’s…”
She would want a ring.
Suddenly, he turns around to face Allura, forcing her to let go. Keith meets the blank confusion written on Allura’s face with a wicked grin. He takes her waist and pulls her close. Allura follows along, blinking expectantly. When Keith doesn’t say anything at first, Allura bites her lip, reading his eyes and daring just a little.
“…get coffee in you. Your flight’s in four hours,” he finishes anticlimactically, handing Allura her pink mug.
Allura inhales sharply.
“I want to punch you,” she says shortly. Accepting the mug but flashing an irritated look at him, she takes a long sip.
“I could say the same to you,” he replies, sliding his hand up the side of her chest and causing Allura to pout. “Your entire closet is still on my couch.”
Allura rolls her eyes.
“I was going to pack last night.”
“Why didn’t you?” Keith asks. His improvised grin quickly turns smug.
“Shut up,” Allura replies, looking away and trying not to smile as she takes another sip of her coffee.
“Allura,” says Keith. The inexplicable soft timbre of his low voice sends an involuntary shiver down Allura’s spine, convincing her to look away harder. Keith takes the mug out of her hands without warning, and Allura snaps her head back in disbelief.
“What are you –”
Keith’s heated hand finds the back of Allura’s neck, his fingers pushing back her tangled hair. Allura reacts before she understands, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. Keith pulls her impossibly close, and her eyes flutter shut as Keith tilts her head, ready to catch her parted lips.
“Keith, it’s time.”
He falls forward, back to where he had started. He’s sitting in the chair again, not with her. Keith turns in the direction of Shiro’s calm voice, but when the implications of the message finally register, Keith panics and looks away. He stands up abruptly, scanning the terrace until he finds his mother sitting in the front row, and suddenly he feels like he’s five years old again.
Deeply amused, Krolia mouths words of comfort that Keith can’t quite decipher, nudging her husband beside her as he shoots Keith a sympathetic look. Keith tries to speak but the words, the emotions don’t come out. In the end, Lance punches the pent-up air out of Keith’s chest and shoves him up the steps toward the pastor.
“Shiro, I…what if she backs out?”
“Keith, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She’s crazy for choosing me.”
“That’s true.”
“You’re not helping!”
Shiro chuckles, fixes Keith’s collar, and pats him hard on the shoulder.
“When I married Adam, I tripped walking up the steps and messed up my own name while reading my vows.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember that. Takaji Shirugane.”
“Don’t bring that up ever again. And don’t worry. She loves you.”
“Thanks, Shiro.”
Quiet classical music streams overhead, so Keith takes a deep breath. For the first time all day, he lets himself look at every person. In the second row, Hunk shoots him two thumbs up, and Keith musters a small smile. A private wedding ceremony with family and close friends – there can’t be more than fifty people. Sixty seconds later feeling like forever, the procession begins.
The wind blows, and loose cherry blossom petals fall on Keith’s shoes. He glances down and traces their journey back down the steps, to the path of scattered pink, white, and yellow. First down the aisle is Lance, cleaning up well in his tailored suit and cobalt tie. Pidge follows, in shining pastel pink and a pale green headband, and then Romelle, radiant as the maid of honor. Lance’s nephew walks briskly with the rose gold rings, and his niece, crowned with flowers, drops deep pink and moonstone peonies as she spins to the stage. One by one, they arrive on stage, and Keith swallows. He can’t hear the music anymore.
He loves her. He’s in love with her. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. His heart is about to jump out of his chest. He looks at his mother and father, then Melenor elegantly preparing tissues, but when he turns to Shiro, Shiro places a hand on his shoulder and gently nudges him back forward.
At the opposite end of the aisle, Allura, the ethereal star, stands next to Alfor. Keith’s heart doesn’t jump out of his chest. It stops. He forgets how to breathe. In an instant, he falls in love with her all over again.
Dressed in the color of snow, her gown, minimally embellished in her favorite floral patterns, falls to the floor like a cascading waterfall. Her silver hair fixes in a loose bun, fastened by lilies of the valley. Sparkling against the late afternoon sun, her glimmer illusion veil extends beyond the hemline of her gown. Her sleeves fall delicately off her shoulders, leaving in clear view the sapphire rose necklace Keith had given her on her seventeenth birthday. Her iridescent sky blue eyes are glazed and bright, and Keith realizes that his are too.
When she’s there on stage, facing him, she is wearing the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.
Keith bites his lip, takes her hand at once, and Allura giggles, clutching her bouquet of vibrant flowers a little tighter.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, a little breathlessly.
“Not so bad yourself,” she laughs.
Later, he realizes the music stops.
They repeat vows from the pastor. Keith makes promises he intends to keep for a lifetime, but there are things more important right now. He just wants to be with her, wants to kiss her senseless. He squeezes Allura’s hand, and she squeezes back. Feeling his impatience, Allura smiles and lifts Keith’s head up, looks deeply into his eyes.
“I’m so happy,” she mouths.
He thinks he could cry.
The pastor’s final words ring in his ears, but now, carefully lifting Allura’s veil, Keith only stares at the enticing blush pink of her lips.
Stepping forward, tenderly cupping her face, Keith gently presses his lips against hers. Allura grins into the kiss, happily wrapping her arms his neck. They part, unwillingly, when Keith tastes tears and he can’t tell who they’re from.
Keith laughs, looking down at Allura as he raises his thumb to dry her eyes.
Softly, closely, intimately, he tells her “I love you.”
He knows he can’t kiss her too hard, not when they’re in front of her parents. He knows he shouldn’t, but he decides he doesn’t care. He lets go of her face, grabs her possessively by the neck and waist and lifts her off the floor. Keith catches Allura’s gasp with his lips when her body presses against his, and Allura returns the impassioned kiss in equal fervor, throwing her bouquet away to run her fingers through Keith’s hair.
Laughing as he sets her back down on her feet, Allura looks up, breathlessly, into Keith’s suggestive violet eyes, blushing furiously as she clasps his hand.
a/n: well, i started writing this after season 6 and never got around to finishing it before season 7. this was supposed to be canon-compliant but now it’s...not lol and i have very mixed feelings about s7 so i’m impulsively deciding to dump some writing. i had about 7k words but i’m sharing only 2k here. k/a is still one of my fav vld ships so i might finish this eventually or it might go in my vault of abandoned wips who knows
---
Morning arrives on the barren moon in pale green. The crisp air bites her exposed face as Allura wakes with exhaustion weighing on her at the break of dawn. Her weary eyes, not yet ready for the new day, refuse to open. Enviously so, no one else seems to stir. Next to her, Pidge and Romelle are still asleep, and Allura decides to indulge in the comfort of her blanketed cot for a little while longer.
She tells herself not to think. Not about Voltron, not about Olkarion, not about Lotor. She builds herself a wall. Soon, her breathing slows. Her senses drift farther and farther away. Just as sleep begins to salvage its lost victim back into its trenches, warm fur tickles her back and nudges her leg. Easily guessing the culprit, Allura curls deeper under her blanket, but curiosity persuades her to turn around and confront the wolf.
Allura meets the cool surface of her pillow and comes face-to-face with Keith’s bright-eyed wolf, watching her attentively. Smiling tiredly, she reaches out and gently pets the wolf on its head, who responds obediently by leaning in to the touch.
“Keith trained you well, didn’t he?” she asks the wolf quietly, so as to not wake the others around them.
It seems to understand her and nods proudly. Hearing noise outside, its ears perk up and its head turns in the direction of the source. Light footsteps tread from beyond the shielded canopy, and Allura sits up from her cot, her messy, white hair cascading down to her waist. She scans the rest of the makeshift sleeping quarters and discovers only one cot empty.
The wolf scampers from Allura’s side, exiting the tent, and Allura feels compelled to follow. Climbing out of her cot, Allura smooths out her nightgown and soundlessly slips into her Paladin boots. She heads outside, and when she lifts the entrance of the tent, a strong gust of wind blows into her. Allura grimaces and clutches her nightgown tighter. She ventures further out and finds Keith with his back facing her, kneeling down and feeding his wolf a small snack before breakfast.
Hesitantly, she walks forward, until her heavy boots reach Keith’s crouched shadow and Keith’s wolf turns to look at her. In the back of her mind, Allura wonders if she’s allowed to interrupt them at all. Since their last interaction, Keith hasn’t even looked at her, let alone talked to her. It chips at her pride. She doesn’t know what she has done wrong.
Moondust grazes past her cheeks, lands in her tangled, unbrushed hair. Keith glances over his shoulder, and his eyes widen when he sees her. It suddenly occurs to Allura that she hardly looks presentable and mild horror shocks through her system.
“Princess, you’re awake,” he says, standing up to greet her.
“Good morning, Keith,” she responds. She tugs at the hem of her sleeve nervously and resists the urge to fix her atrociously improper hair.
“Is everybody else…?”
“No, I don’t think so. Just us.”
Keith takes a moment to process the information before he flashes her a smile. He’s more expressive since finding his mother and returning from the quantum abyss. Right now, he seems almost cautious, Allura thinks, and the mere suggestion of a growing distance between them stings her chest.
“That’s fine,” Keith finally assures.
Allura replies with a shy smile of her own. She notices the revealing dampness of his skin and the ends of his hair, drying in clumps against the back of his neck.
“Were you training?” she asks.
“Not for long. I didn’t want to do anything that would wake someone up.”
“That’s quite considerate.”
For a moment, neither speaks. It’s Keith who breaks the silence.
“We should leave in a few hours. That way, we reach Olkarion before the end of the day.”
“Right. Good idea,” says Allura, sounding more disappointed than intended.
“We could leave earlier –” Keith starts to suggest, but Allura rushes to explain herself.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it that way! Nothing like that. I’m just…” Allura trails off, causing Keith to frown in concern.
“Allura,” he asks, “Is something wrong?”
Keith’s tone is remarkably gentle, leaving space for Allura to breathe. She bites her lip and exhales slowly, unsure whether or not to proceed. Searching for affirmation, she anxiously glances at Keith, who stands in front of her waiting patiently for her response. Warily, she decides to tell him.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
Allura doesn’t want to mention how her thoughts have tormented her for movements, how they have persisted despite opening up to Lance back in the Castle. Irritating locks of her hair fly wildly as the wind rises again.
“Like what?”
“I…”
She can’t breathe. If Keith finds out what she had done with Lotor, how she had let something so fleeting like infatuation blind her to the truth, he would probably never forgive her.
“Let’s find somewhere to sit down.”
Allura nods. She doesn’t miss how he almost extends his hand to her but decides against it at the last tick, like he already knows that her hands and her lips have been tainted.
---
They sit next to each other at one of the tables they use to eat meals and speak in hushed tones. Allura can feel its cool, steel surface through the thin layers of her nightgown and sleeping garments as she presses her crossed forearms into the sharp edge.
Her fingers clench tightly around Keith’s dark blue blanket, draped delicately over her shoulders. Keith had snuck in past Shiro and Hunk’s sleeping figures to retrieve it when a sudden blast of wind had nearly blown Allura’s nightgown off her body earlier.
“…I liked him so much, Keith,” Allura confesses in a horrified whisper, her walls finally crashing into dust and ashes. She can’t read the expression on Keith’s face. He’s not angry. He’s not jealous. Part of Allura wants him to be. She desperately needs to know what he thinks. Instead, he just listens. So she continues.
“He said all the right things. We were so alike. I…I thought he was my soulmate. It all happened so fast, and I let my emotions get the better of me. I helped create a monster.”
Suddenly understanding, Keith’s face falls and he leans back, contemplating the right words to say. He’s not good at giving advice, but memories of Shiro’s lectures and all the times he had gotten himself into fights, ruined second chances, let his own emotions control him, flood into his mind. Keith studies the anguish and heartbreak in Allura’s eyes, and as much as it makes him want to touch her, dry out her tears before they fall, tuck loose strands of wispy, silver hair behind her ear, he doesn’t.
“It already happened. You can’t blame yourself forever,” Keith says quietly, carefully. “Emotions are a part of you. They tell you things that words can’t. I was so angry for so long. But you learn how to control them.”
Allura manages a halfhearted smile.
“Shiro used to tell me ‘patience yields focus.’ Acknowledge my emotions. Be patient. I wasn’t always good about it, but it helped.”
“Patience…” Allura muses out loud.
“…Yields focus,” Keith finishes for her, grinning.
Wordlessly imagining the retired Black Paladin reciting his mantra, Keith and Allura share a reserved laugh.
Allura sighs, relaxing her shoulders.
“What happens if he comes back? He has access to unlimited quintessence.”
“Voltron will defeat him,” Keith responds squarely.
“How can you be so sure?”
Keith pauses while he stares at her and Allura’s breath catches in her throat. He averts his gaze for a moment before looking directly in her eyes.
“We have you.”
It’s uncanny how Keith is always there to catch her when she stumbles, both figuratively and…literally. Allura tries to hide her amused smile as she recalls the time Keith had caught her trying to sneak out of the Castle. When Keith looks at her curiously, Allura blushes and sheepishly waves off his concern.
They fall into a comfortable silence at the table, and like the calming wind, Allura feels so much lighter. Wrapping herself tightly in Keith’s blanket, she leans in against the table and stares out at the morning horizon. When she pulls the blanket up to her rosy, wind-chilled cheeks, the addictive fragrance of juniberry soap laced with a scent so distinctly Keith drowns her senses. The pale green sky is brighter now, delineating the evident passage of time of which they had lost track. Allura supposes that the others should be waking soon.
She feigns indifference, but she watches Keith quietly take out his Marmora blade from the corner of her eye. In stark contrast to his usually aggressive demeanor, he gently runs his thumb over the glowing jagged insignia, and Allura bites her lip, inadvertently wondering about how it would feel to be the recipient of that soft touch, to be the object of Keith’s warm affections. Whoever Keith falls in love with would be lucky, she thinks.
With piercing sharp focus, Keith begins to practice gripping techniques, slashing the air in small, controlled movements. Allura has always found Keith’s dedication endearing, his natural talent intimidating. Without realizing, she gravitates closer to him to observe his extraordinary skill in fascination.
When Keith finally notices her watching, he stops and looks at her, completely unaffected.
“Do you want to try?” he asks her plainly.
Taken aback by the blunt nature of his invitation, Allura’s eyes widen.
“I…May I?”
Her eagerness reveals itself in her tone and Keith smirks.
“All yours, Princess.” He flips the handle and offers it to her.
Allura casually leans in and her hand coyly reaches out to grab his Marmora blade, still warm from Keith’s tight grip. She studies the combat knife in its entirety, acknowledging the exceptional craftsmanship and admiring the quintessence-infused luxite. It dawns on her then that this knife, very much like her own crown, had been passed down by his mother in his infancy, and a momentary rush of sadness overcomes her. She can easily imagine how treasured and important this rebel blade must be to Keith.
Sentimental but resolute, she demonstrates her proficiency with a basic forward grip, slicing in a clean, diagonal motion.
“Not bad,” Keith remarks.
“Show me a reverse grip,” she orders, nearly shoving the blade in Keith’s face.
Keith smiles apprehensively but his eyes dance with childlike excitement. His hand catches her slim wrist and decidedly lowers the blade from his face.
“Not if you’re going to stab me,” says Keith, quirking his eyebrow.
Allura blushes.
“Sorry.”
“I’m kidding,” Keith replies, cracking a teasing grin and causing Allura to blush harder. “You want to hold it like this.”
Without a second thought, he moves next to her to adjust the blade and position her hand. Now distressingly aware of their pressed shoulders, Allura stops breathing and stares as Keith smoothly slides his hand from her wrist to clasp hers, leaving behind a scorching field. She refuses to look up. She can’t face him.
Sensing her stiffness, Keith turns to her.
“Allura,” he starts, and Allura jerks her head toward him at the sound of her name. “You have to –”
Their eyes meet, inches apart. Keith forgets what he intends to say.
“Oh! Allura! Keith! You’re both awake!”
They jump and separate at the loud, startling interruption. Allura gasps and both let go of the blade at the same time, but before it can hit and clatter on the table, Keith quickly swipes his blade back onto his belt. Like deer in headlights, they turn to meet their maker.
Coran emerges fresh-faced from under the canopy, cheerfully stretching out his legs. He walks over to the pair, thinking nothing of the obvious heat steaming from their ears.
“I hope you’re not too hungry, Princess! I’ll get to breakfast right away!”
Keith promptly and dramatically springs up from the table.
“I’ll help.”
“Gladly appreciated, Keith! How do you feel about cracking some kotka eggs?”
“Sounds great, Coran,” Keith grimaces, hurriedly following Coran and leaving Allura behind at the table without a second glance.
When she’s sure neither of them are looking, Allura collapses and buries her face in her arms. She can’t shake the image of his warm, calloused hand over hers from her mind. Inhaling sharply and holding her breath, Allura pleads her heart to stop pounding so furiously. Patience, she tells herself. Be patient. She breathes out slowly and takes another deep breath. Closing her eyes, all she sees is dark, shining violet.
Most nights at home are quiet just like this, the singular, amplified sound of a sharp pencil scratching skillfully against a paper surface permeating the room. Time extends, the air stifles with warmth, and the outside world disappears in this space. Late autumn rain patters melancholically against the window, cascading down the glass, blurring city lights into indistinct spots. To Keith, it is white noise, no more distracting than the static buzz of the dull light emanating from the lamp on the nightstand.
He stares blankly at his open sketchbook, propped up against his knee, and distractedly picks at the small binding ring at the edge of the page. The begrudging draft in front of him – a recent landscape commission – is uninspiring. Despite the relatively commonplace subject matter, the strokes feel forced after two concentrated hours and the willow tree still doesn’t look right. After impatiently tapping his pencil against the pad, Keith falls back against his pillow in resigned frustration, deciding to leave the draft for a new day.
Without lifting his head, Keith surveys the state of perpetual, accumulated clutter in their room. Old scientific journals stacked on the armchair, discarded drafts and open books scattered on every possible flat surface, he finds stability in the organized disorder. He’ll carry the small mountain of worn sweaters, jeans, socks, and knitted stockings draped over the chair next to the dresser downstairs to wash in the morning. On the opposite nightstand, the unfinished mug of chamomile tea resting on a woolen coaster is nearly cold. Finally, he rolls his head along the edge of his pillow, his eyes falling instantly on the messy spread of silver hair over the thick, white comforter, and a small smile emerges on his tired face.
Allura had fallen asleep over an hour ago after finishing an engrossed review of her most recent lab findings, succumbing to polyatomic basis sets in the end. She’s curled in his direction and buried deep under the blankets, clutching tightly onto the top sheet and revealing just enough of her face to breathe. A remaining token from late evening flirting, the fragile stem of a small, white jasmine flower picked from their potted tree clings loosely behind her ear.
Dreaming of clouds and the sun, she sighs, so softly and pleasantly, and in that instant leaves Keith breathlessly in love with her. His heart, beating furiously, swells with an aching passion. His grip on his pencil tightens – something switches on – and he turns the page, devouring the exhilarating sight of a fresh, blank canvas. He begins with the familiar, gentle curve of Allura’s cheek. Next, sure enough, the flow of her sleepy, disheveled hair is easy, every trace of loose locks and curls precisely drawn. He takes care to match on paper every detail – the angle of her thin, relaxed brows, the plush of her full lips, and the length of her side-swept bangs. She is still the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.
And then she shifts and momentarily stirs, adjusting her head against her pillow and tugging the sheets closer. Allura’s bangs fall forward, and the flower behind her ear drops down. Careful not to let its cool, metallic lining chill her exposed temple, Keith uses the very edge of his pencil to lift the flower back in place. He allows a few moments to pass, until he thinks Allura has fallen back into deep sleep. Then he silently reaches over to gently brush and fix her bangs.
Her sudden, muffled giggle into her pillow startles him, and he abruptly draws his hand back, immense guilt quickly overtaking his conscience.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks quietly, apologetically.
Allura shakes her head, keeping her eyes closed.
“Not really,” she answers wearily, not yet fully awake nor wanting to be. “Are you drawing me because you finished the draft of the commission?”
“Uh.”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Allura laughs airily. She lets go of the sheet and runs her hand affectionately across Keith’s waist, warmly snaking it under his shirt. Locking her arm around him, she pulls herself closer and hides her face against the side of his chest. She inhales deeply, breathing in the faint scent of soap and peppermint.
Keith grins sheepishly and sets down his sketchpad against his raised knee. Adjusting the pencil in his hand, he extends his arm around her, reaches down, and idly combs through Allura’s long hair.
“I got distracted,” he insists. “Something else caught my attention.”
“You couldn’t possibly mean me?” Allura teases, speaking into his shirt. She pauses and sighs pleasantly, briefly taking in the slow rhythm and gentle touch of Keith’s fingers running through her hair. Almost reluctantly, she turns her head and looks up at him.
“Let me see.”
Allura pushes herself up, pressing her palms into the bed. Keith’s eyes flicker toward her before he remembers that she’s still wearing his favorite shirt, and he tries to hide his stare as the dark, oversized neckline casually falls off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone. In the act of sitting up, the flower wedged delicately behind Allura’s ear, now pressed and awkwardly bent, falls into his lap. He picks it up and spins the stem between his fingers as Allura eagerly leans over into his space to review his unfinished work.
Her bleary blue eyes study the modest drawing and shyly follow the graphite lines so well-versed in the shape of her. A faint blush spreads across her cheeks and her lips curl upward in a tiny, introspective smile. Keith has drawn her a thousand times, but every version is like this, soft, indulgent, and cherished – the wordless language of his love for her. Allura turns to meet Keith’s indigo eyes, caught in a storm of racing emotions. All she can hear is the fast beating of her heart pounding in her ears.
He’s expecting her reaction and smiles fondly when Allura looks at him. He tilts her chin up ever so slightly, and then he whispers, in the addictive low voice that timelessly sends shivers down her spine, “You’re beautiful.”
Just as Allura cracks a silly grin, ready to tease, Keith captures her lips with his, closing the gap between them and stealing a kiss. When he pulls back a moment later, Allura’s eyes are adorably wide and Keith smirks.
“Not fair,” she pouts.
“How do I make it up to you?” Keith answers without a second thought.
She lifts her hand and grabs his arm in earnest.
“Sleep. It’s so late.”
“Is it?” he genuinely wonders, glancing at the digital clock on their dresser.
Allura snatches the pencil from Keith’s hand before he can protest and leans over to place it on the nightstand. The pencil, still warm from Keith’s hard grip, rolls freely until it’s stopped by the sharp corner of an old notebook. Keith easily concedes, relinquishing his sketchpad to her as she takes it and the jasmine flower from his grasp. Gazing down pensively at her impulsively-drawn likeness, she presses the flower’s petals lightly against her lips. Then Allura lowers the flower, smoothing out its bent edges, and gingerly positions it in a blank corner of the page. She carefully closes the sketchpad with the flower inside, and sets it aside as well, away from their bed.
Watching her attentively, Keith leans back lazily against the headboard, and after she draws back from the nightstand, Allura rests her hand on his thigh. With his two hands, he embraces her face and stares fixatedly at her like she is his entire world. Because she is.
“You’re right. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Suddenly, Allura’s cheeks burn with rising heat and she blushes modestly. She quickly glances away from him, distracting herself enough to suppress a smile, but Keith, knowing Allura’s every quirk and habit, catches her in the act. By the time she looks back at him again, she has overcome her fluster.
“Don’t be so romantic when I’m too tired to fully appreciate it.”
“Then am I allowed to be romantic in the morning?” Keith asks suggestively, releasing her from his hold.
“Depends on how convincing you are,” she responds, as she slowly, enticingly runs her hand up his thigh.
Keith inhales sharply from the motion as Allura gets up on her knees and climbs into his lap, bedsheets peeling away from their bodies. The fresh bite of cold air makes Keith shiver. His rough, artistic hands find Allura’s slender waist and pull her forward as she assertively grabs his head, eyeing his lips for the briefest of moments, and kisses him deeply, breathtakingly like a shower of a thousand stars. Keith kisses her back, parting lips and intensifying their shared desire. She fiercely tangles her fingers into his hair and Keith reaches out to the nightstand, hastily feeling for the lamp switch, colliding with his pencil that falls to the floor.
The lights go out. In the heady darkness, the sound of heavy rain drums in the distant background. Allura’s snow white hair, reflecting light and faintly glowing, absorbs outside luminescence from the window. Keith toys with the idea of reclaiming his shirt and slides his hands underneath the thin cotton, then possessively up Allura’s back. Allura smirks at the heated touch, and before Keith’s hands can go any higher, she abruptly breaks off the kiss and yanks him down into bed with her, twisting at an angle and letting herself fall on her back.
Keith grunts in mild frustration and Allura giggles, scrambling to return to the head of the bed. As soon as she rolls onto her back, Keith climbs on top of her, seizing and throwing the comforter over them at the same time. Flashing an unsuspecting grin, Allura looks up at him impishly, only to meet Keith’s soft, infatuated eyes gazing down intently at her.
They take her breath away.
Just like they had when she first agreed to marry him, that one night at home after she had graduated. And countless times before and since.
She returns his entrancing gaze with a shy smile, but her eyes burn from exhaustion. She reaches up and timidly cups his cheek. Keith responds with an affectionate smile of his own. His head droops down then, and his wavy, unkempt black hair covers his dark shining eyes from her line of sight. He leans in as Allura slowly wraps her arms around him, and he presses his lips against the crevice of her neck.
“Trust me,” he says quietly while indolently peppering kisses up her neck, “I can be very persuasive.”
Allura bites her lip, forcing down an indicative smile as she clutches and digs into the back of his shirt in response.
There’s an overwhelming stillness in the air, weighing on her, and Allura knows she can’t stay any longer lest she unravels. Lightly, she presses the back of her hand against her cheek. It’s hot. She’s reluctant to move, but it’s late now and she holds no right to stay. Hard against the cool surface of the floor, her knees are red and numb, though she doesn’t mind the evident discomfort. Keith’s chest rises and falls at a steady, lethargic pace and she’s careful not to make a sound as she stands up. Her feather-light sleeves fall down like angel dust from her elbows to her wrists.
“Good night, Keith,” she says softly.
Allura takes a silent step toward the door when Keith wordlessly grabs her hand with an eerily confident accuracy that strikes through her aching heart. Her breath catches and she looks at him with wide eyes, selfishly daring a little to hope.
“Don’t go,” he says in a low, tired voice.
She bites her lip, her mind scrambling to rationalize a refusal.
“I shouldn’t,” Allura responds unevenly, hesitantly, but Keith’s grip on her hand only tightens. Allura doesn’t want to pull away. She thinks she sees him the corners of his lips turn just barely into a frown, as if making a frustrated, split-second decision not to pull her down that very moment and betraying his sleepy stoicism.
“Stay with me.”
It’s more of a command than a suggestion, and Allura would have been livid at any other person with the audacity to order around a royal princess so familiarly. Her racing heart is louder than the rational sensibility of her thoughts. She wants to stay. It takes the entirety of her remaining willpower not to agree.
Hello，I am a kallura fan and I love your KA writing！！😆😆 And I saw your online name，is Chinese..？Is it convenient to know your nationality？（Please forgive me for asking so rudely...
hello~ thank you for liking my writing! i’m taiwanese and american
The wooden amber planks creak so loudly with every step that the echoes of tired, laughing children and overhead seagulls fade into the background. Hands stuffed in deep jacket pockets and with nothing to do after Hunk offhandedly tells him to find Lance, Keith wanders along the boardwalk, passing by modest food shacks, beaten and weathered down by the elements but thriving with late afternoon traffic thanks to the current heatwave. He weaves easily through dwindling crowds, avoiding sticky popsicles and dripping ice cream cones, and finally when he reaches the edge of the ocean, the orange sun glaring in his eyes, he turns a corner.
Immediately, he spots her waiting near a pick-up corner for snow ice, standing out from the crowd with her silver hair low-braided in a bun and tied neatly with a glittery pink ribbon. From this distance, he observes the fascinated stares and hushed whispers from the detached circle formed around her. Keith notices the boy talking animatedly with her, attempting multiple times to edge into her personal space but somehow never succeeding as Allura laughs politely at the joke he tells her.
Keith’s hands come out of his pockets and he makes his way toward them. He strides into the circle, breaking the crowd quite easily with his presence, and he takes off his dark sunglasses, hooking them onto his collar.
“Keith!” Allura exclaims brightly, relief deeply entrenched in her tone.
Keith smirks, not missing the washed-out blond surfer next to her and watching the hope fall instantly from his face.
“Allura,” he replies smoothly, grabbing her full attention. “Where’s Pidge?”
“Lance came by twenty minutes ago and I got bored being a third wheel. They’ve just gone to the arcade,” she explains, meeting his eyes and sharing a wordless deliberate look.
He scowls. “He ditched us when Coran and Hunk started arguing about the best way to grill a kebab. And then Hunk banned me from the beach until sunset.”
“What?” Allura’s eyes widen in surprise.
“I only burned like five patties!” he blurts out defensively, averting his gaze and crossing his arms, then adding much more quietly, “...And I might have also spilled the marinade.”
Allura bursts into giggles, and her rings of saccharine laughter melt away the shallow grievance on his mind. Keith can’t seem to find it in himself to stay annoyed any longer. His shoulders relax, and he lets Allura tug at his jacket sleeve, pulling him with her off to the side of the stand and away from the attention of onlookers. Now standing in the shade under a slanted canopy, Keith turns and leans back comfortably against the wall.
“To be fair, maybe it’s better to leave food preparation to those more gifted in the culinary arts,” she teases. Her fingers playfully climb up his chest, gently tapping the frame of his sunglasses, taking in the way it drags down his dark T-shirt just so to reveal bare skin and a teasing hint of collarbone.
With a shy smile forming, she points at the corner of his frown, but Keith stares back at her blankly, not understanding. Allura’s eyes sparkle in amusement. She leans forward and gently presses her finger against his lips, pushing upward. Startled by her touch, a light blush spreads across Keith’s face. She bites her lip and pokes him again, facing down to hide her own flushed cheeks, and this time he can’t help but smile. His eyes fall on her lips, painted in the color of cotton candy. His heart racing, he grabs her hand and lifts it away from his face. Allura glances back up and finds herself struck by the intense fire in his eyes. With his other arm, he holds her waist and pulls her just a little closer. She can’t look away.
“Order 23!”
“Ooh, that’s me!” she says a bit too loudly, curiously out of breath and abruptly letting go of his sleeve.
She jumps out of his embrace and spins in the direction of the pick-up corner, her embroidered white sundress twirling against the wind. He’s struck by the grace in her step, fixating on the light bounce of her ribbon and the loose ends of her hair curling perfectly. Now he’s several steps behind her and the stardust aura of her silhouette tugs at his strings of his heart. When she turns around, she has a sizeable paper bowl of dark green snow ice in her hand.
Keith raises an eyebrow.
“Matcha?”
“What’s that?”
He points to the bowl.
“The flavor you ordered.”
“Oh…I only ordered it because it was the only one that had strawberries.”
He scans the menu and gives her a questioning look, not quite believing her.
“Without condensed milk,” she adds sheepishly.
“There it is. You know the whole thing’s ice cream, right?”
Allura grimaces as if Keith had committed a crime by pointing out the obvious. “Humans have disgusting diets. I’ve seen how you all get your milk.”
He shrugs, trying his best to hold back a laugh.
“I actually don’t like milk that much,” he reassures her, reaching out and sliding his fingers into hers. He grabs a plastic spoon and two napkins from the counter and leads her away from the snow ice stand.
“So what is matcha exactly?” she asks, matching his step as they start walking back to the main section of the boardwalk. Holding the bowl in one hand and Keith’s hand in the other, Allura turns and motions at him to give her the spoon. Abiding her request, Keith sticks the small plastic spoon in her mouth and receives a cheeky, appreciative grin. He quietly lets go of her hand so she can eat, and missing the warmth, stuffs both of his hands in his pockets.
“Crushed tea leaves,” he answers simply, stealing a quick glance at her just as she scoops a soft bite of the snow into her mouth. His throat parches, and suddenly Keith really wants something to drink.
“Well, I like tea,” she considers out loud, and her eyes light up when she finds that she enjoys the taste.
Excitedly, Allura licks her lips before taking another bite and Keith quickly diverts his attention from her to the small stand displaying an impressive round dispenser of freshly squeezed pink lemonade drenched in golden honey and topped with thinly sliced lemons. They stop to buy a cup, but receive a second cup – despite humble protest – free when the generous owner discovers that Allura has never had pink lemonade before, having come from a faraway galaxy. Keith ends up carrying two iced pink lemonades in his hands, too embarrassed to drink from either.
“Let’s find somewhere to sit,” Allura suggests, and soon they spot and claim an empty table on the beach side of the boardwalk, lined by windswept fences and hot sand spilling over from the nearby steps.
Keith sets down the drinks as Allura sits and places the snow ice bowl in front of her, dark red syrup drizzling down haphazardly around the bowl and mixing in with the layered green dessert. Allura leans in toward the table, trying to avoid the hard sunlight hitting her back and Keith readily reaches for the cool pastel rainbow umbrella, angling the pole closer toward Allura before swinging his leg and taking his seat across from her. Allura bites her lip eagerly and picks out a strawberry to eat from the bowl.
Idly, Keith gazes out toward the beach and in the far-off distance, he sees the rest of their group with the exception of Shiro – probably making a last-minute run for beer since Lance had inevitably announced to everyone in the car on the way here that he forgot to buy some – near the cove. He can barely make out the outlines of Hunk and Coran busily preparing food and Pidge smacking Lance on the head for trying to set off fireworks before sunset, the latter causing Keith to laugh.
Allura turns and looks over her shoulder to see what’s grabbing Keith’s attention, and when she finds their friends too, she smiles pleasantly to herself. They watch them quietly for a while, and Allura doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Keith unexpectedly interrupts her train of thought.
“Your ice is melting,” he observes plainly, head resting on his hand and watching the snow ice run down the side of the bowl as he takes a long sip of lemonade.
Allura swings back toward him, and gasps when she looks down at the bowl.
“Oh, quiznak!” she panics, rushing to clean the syrupy mess with a napkin before it touches the table and quickly working to eat around the edges. Keith laughs at Allura’s flustered reaction, much to her passing displeasure.
After he takes the used napkin and tosses it into a nearby trash can, they soon settle into a comfortable silence, with Allura carefully finishing her snow ice and Keith lazily pacing his lemonade as he watches people come and go. The chaos of overheard, excited conversations is suffocating, so in the end he pays attention to no one and nothing. As the stalls and restaurants begin to lock down their fronts and the crowds slowly shuffle and herd into parking lots on their way home, the walkway finally clears of beach-goers until only Keith and Allura are left. Keith exhales slowly, and then realizes he’d been sipping from an empty cup and unaware of the tension he’d been bottling.
When he glances over to check on Allura, he sees her playing with her snow ice, circling her spoon around and around the bowl and mixing suspiciously leftover toppings with the creamy snow until it resembles tasteful slush.
“Keith…” she says finally, giving up and looking at him wistfully. “Do you want the rest?”
Allura shyly pushes the bowl in his direction, and Keith’s eyes soften sympathetically. He holds his hand out for her spoon and she gratefully beams at him. He takes the bowl and spoon in his hand, assessing what’s left to eat, and notices the disproportionate amount of red beans off on the side.
“You don’t like these?” he asks with a genuinely surprised expression on his face. He scoops out a big spoonful of them to show her.
Allura averts her gaze, her cheeks matching the color of her markings. “Oh, no! I like them! It’s just…” she starts, and then hesitantly turns back to face him. “Those are red beans, right? The other day, you had a look on your face when you mentioned that you haven’t had them since you were a child, so I thought maybe…” She blushes furiously, directly confronted by her own self-consciousness.
Keith freezes, stunned speechless by Allura’s gesture and heat rising in his chest. His mind hastily rewinds back to the team’s chance conversation about favorite ice cream flavors and the shocked stares he had received that had prompted an explanation when he had casually answered red bean instead of something more characteristically ambiguous like I don’t know, rocky road? He hadn’t expected Allura to remember, let alone intentionally save some from her own dessert for him. He doesn’t recognize this strange, new feeling, the way it overwhelms his thoughts and sets his heart into hyperdrive. He doesn’t know how to react, so he frowns, and Allura’s face falls.
“I’ve made a mistake! I’m so sorry, Keith!” she says immediately, reading his expression and starting to spiral. It had been so silly to even assume. Of course he doesn’t want them. If he had wanted to eat them, he would have ordered some himself… She hides her face in her hands.
Keith’s eyes widen in light panic at her startled apology and he drops the spoon back in the bowl. He quickly stands up and leans over to grab her hand. Allura peeks out meekly at him.
“I…I didn’t mean it that way, Allura, I…” he pauses nervously, “Thanks.”
Her shoulders relax and he gently squeezes her hand. Without letting go, he sits back down, pulling her hand toward him. Allura chews on her lip and smiles halfheartedly.
“I’m glad you did,” he says, slowly and quietly, unable to meet her eyes. He tightens his grip on her hand, clasping it tightly, and Allura lets herself breathe again. When she’s at her most vulnerable, the fleeting moments in which she remembers she’s just a girl that had never asked to lead and win a war, never fallen in love before, Keith’s words are simple and understanding, a shining beacon calling her back into the world when she falls too deeply into herself. She finds a palace in the cast of his touch. She wants to tell him that much, someday. Regretfully too soon, he draws back from her and picks up the spoon again.
It doesn’t take long for Keith to finish the rest of the snow ice, and Allura finds joy in watching him. She starts drinking her lemonade, its unbearable sweetness both extraordinary and refreshing. The sun, now nearing the horizon, colors the sky in brilliantly deep shades of gold, magenta, and cerulean. Light reflects against Keith’s hair, messier than usual after diving into the ocean, and Allura swears it looks violet. She resists the urge to reach out and touch it.
Swallowing the last bite, Keith glances up, and Allura’s twinkling blue eyes transform into crescent moons. His heart involuntarily skips a beat. The sound of loud, crashing waves along the shoreline roars in his ears and drowns out his thoughts. He imagines the absence of their friends, him grabbing her with his hands, kissing her until dark, and pulling her infuriating ribbon until it isn’t perfect anymore.
A sudden breeze causes Allura to shiver, and it’s enough to pull Keith out of his daze. He shrugs off his jacket and gets up, rounding over to her side of the table. She looks up at him with wide adoration, hugging her arms, and he drapes his jacket over her shoulders. Without missing a beat, she grabs onto its collar tightly and sinks into the warmth. He grins and sits down next to her, facing outward. He leans back against the edge of the table, crossing his arms.
“You were staring at me for a long time,” he says.
“Well, I was thinking,” Allura explains, her teasing voice intoxicating his senses.
“About?” he asks, unsuspecting.
“How I have a really cute boyfriend.”
Keith’s face flushes dark in an instant.
“Oh,” he replies lamely, caught off guard and faltering, lowering his arms. He doesn’t know what to say and Allura giggles. She reaches for his hand and holds it tight, not needing any bigger reaction. Keith stares at their joined hands, and an easy calmness washes over him.
“I like this,” admits Keith softly, and Allura smiles warmly, shifting closer to him.
“Me too.”
Half of the sun and its light still remain, but he surrenders himself to Allura’s incandescent eyes. Keith leans in impossibly close, and Allura shuts her eyes before he does his. He kisses her lightly, tasting and savoring the sugar on her lips. Allura’s hand presses into his thigh and slides up, dragging the hem of his shorts with it and igniting a burning intensity within him. She breaks off reluctantly for air, and Keith eagerly grabs her waist, pulling her in when her eyes flutter open, then wide and she pushes him back with enough force that he loses his balance and nearly falls on his arm.
“Wha–” he starts, looking bewildered at her. Her face is scarlet and he sees her staring at something behind him. He turns around instantly to find a tall man, jaw slightly agape, carrying two large packs of beer with his robot arm and a small bowl of guacamole in the other.
“S-Shiro!” he chokes from shock.
“I, uh, got the beer,” is Shiro’s initial response.
Shiro looks at the both of them in frozen disbelief and doesn’t seem to remember how to move.
“Keith, you…you and Allura…since when have you two –”
“How long have you been standing there?” Keith asks weakly, cutting Shiro off. Almost timidly, Allura grabs Keith’s arm and doesn’t let go once she pulls him back upright.
“I didn’t see…much,” answers Shiro vaguely, unconsciously raising his arm to scratch the back of his head but remembering the guacamole and swooping down to catch it before it splatters. “So exactly how long has this…are you two…?” He gestures wildly between the two of them with the bowl.
Keith and Allura both flush darkly, neither trying to meet Shiro’s eyes.
“We’re…together,” Allura says slowly, “Is that how humans say it?” She glances at Keith.
“Dating.”
“Right. That.”
“Oh. That’s…great! When did you –”
“Two months ago,” Keith snaps, finally past the embarrassment of being caught and profound annoyance settling in over getting rudely interrupted. “Don’t keep the others waiting for those drinks.”
Shiro chuckles, satisfied with the return of Keith’s usual temperament. He starts his way down the steps toward the beach.
“By the way, is this supposed to be a secret? Who else knows?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.
“No one,” Keith answers at the same time Allura says, “Hunk does.”
“What?” asks Keith incredulously, hearing this information for the first time.
“He thinks he does. He says it’s suspicious that we’ve been spending a lot of time together recently.”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” Keith sighs in resignation. Then he faces Shiro. “Listen, we’re not exactly announcing this to the world, so…”
“I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks, Shiro.”
Shiro flashes an approving smile. “Don’t stay out here too long though. Hunk wasn’t serious when he said you couldn’t come back until sunset.”
They watch him walk toward the campsite where the others, obscured in the fading sun, have started to settle down and gather. When Shiro is far away enough, the two relax and slump back against the table. After a brief moment of awkward silence, Allura breaks into a fit of laughter and Keith groans while trying to repress his own grin.
“I can’t believe he saw us,” Keith laments dramatically.
“Serves you right. You kissed me first,” teases Allura. “Anyone could’ve seen us. Imagine if it’d been Lance.”
“He’d never let us live it down.”
He glances over at her and smirks. Allura quirks an eyebrow at him.
“It was worth it though.”
Allura bites her lip mischievously. “Oh really?”
“Definitely,” he assures her. Before she can react, he leans in and kisses her deeply, wanting more but holding back. They part breathlessly moments later, with Allura’s hand clinging tightly onto his shirt.
“Tastes like lemonade,” he says, and Allura blushes.
“It’s getting dark,” she whispers after a long pause, watching their combined shadow gradually shrink and disappear. “Let’s go.”
Keith nods in agreement, and Allura turns around to get up. When she gazes out to the ocean, Keith impulsively grabs her hand. She looks back at him and squeezes tightly. Her hair looks like starlight and it reminds him of home.
Allura lets go and excitedly runs ahead of him to reunite with the group, clutching tightly onto his jacket as it flies behind her. Keith follows after her, memorizing the way she laughs and calls out to their friends. The shape of her anchors inside his chest his heart, beating incessantly to remind him that it still exists. The cool sea breeze taunts his skin but he doesn’t rush back. He turns toward the ocean, studying a stray cloud as it passes through a field of awakening bright stars. Clarity strikes like a lightning bolt straight through his heart and then suddenly he’s so sure.
Her hand glides over the petals before it settles, fingers gently combing through the prickly stems of blood red flowers as they flicker for the briefest of moments. She glances down wistfully, harboring a defiant urge to pluck the absurdly curve-edged petals from their stem, only to feel a rush of disappointment when she presses her fingers together and comes into contact with nothing. They’re real, but not enough, vanishing instantly once detached from their source. In protest, she wrinkles and pulls at the edge of her nightgown. Allura doesn’t know why she finds herself here again, surrounded by simulated alien flora and programmed dusk. She can feel the timed breeze knot in her hair. Time always passes too slowly at night when she is alone.
Allura closes her eyes and breathes in the imagined scents of pointed juniberries, hoping the memories can lull her to sleep in the middle of this forged field of horridly beautiful Earth flowers. She throws out her swallowed compromises, discards the diplomatic face, and waits for the exhaustion to consume her.
He finds her there. When he sees her powdered snow hair and pale blue gown embraced in a sea of brilliant red, Keith smiles before he can catch himself. Like his memories of vast desert canyons and the melodic sound of crickets at night, a fire inside him burns and he wants to remember this moment, this space, forever. She’s so beautiful. She’s mine. He bites his lip until it nearly bleeds, his heart aching.
“Allura,” he breathes at the same time she does.
Her eyes fly open and she turns to him in surprise. She gasps at the sight of him, taking in the pressed black Galran cape he wears now, the stiff burgundy-accented collar, his dark violet eyes, and his presence.
“Keith,” she laughs in disbelief, “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” he responds, a small, knowing smile emerging on his face.
In her fluster, Allura rushes to get up, her hand unwittingly reaching up to fix her undone hair to no real effect, but Keith motions her to stay and walks over to her instead. Once he is close enough, Allura leaps and throws her arms around him as he catches her easily around her waist, their suppressed longing finally seeping out of their bones. She buries her head in his neck, closing her eyes and breathing him in.
“I thought you were coming in the morning,” she mutters, her lips grazing over his skin and sending fervid chills down his spine. His grip on her waist tightens.
“The last negotiations ended early. I wanted to surprise you.”
Gently, Keith raises his hand and strokes her hair, pushing back loose strands absentmindedly behind her ear. Allura smiles softly, indulging in the familiar touch before she releases him from her hold at last, his fingers still woven into her silver tresses.
“What a lovely surprise,” she says quietly, pausing for a craving moment, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
He lets go of her waist, and with his freed hand, he curls around her neck and pulls Allura into him as his lips fall onto hers with starving devotion. She sighs happily and slides her hands under his cape, eagerly deepening the kiss and memorizing the scorching roughness of his touch and addicting sweetness of his taste. Allura pushes him down slowly, breaking for a fleeting moment, tilting her head, kissing him again, while Keith’s hand disentangles from her hair and traces down to the small of her back, holding her desperately close as they sink into the flowers.
Finally and breathlessly, they part, and when Allura looks down, she savors Keith’s flushed cheeks and the burning intensity in his eyes, undoubtedly matching her own. He runs a hand down her side and she comes to him, lying down and resting her head on his collarbone. She glances up and studies his face, tenderly brushing his hair away from his line of vision. Warmly, he wraps his arm around her in tacit gratitude. In the comfort of his embrace, Allura closes her eyes.
“Will you tell me what you were doing here instead of sleeping?” he asks after a while, unassumingly and idly playing with the outer locks of her hair again.
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come here like we used to whenever we had things on our mind,” she admits, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over her.
“Is it the labor strikes? I heard from Kolivan that riots were starting on some of the planets.”
She nods silently, curling and reaching for his hand so he meets her halfway. Keith slides his fingers into hers and pulls them to his chest.
“Lotor thinks the workers are weak, that their leaders will persuade them to give up, so he says we shouldn’t interfere. I’ve seen their working conditions. They’re right to be angry. They’ve become wary of the lack of action coming from the Coalition, and it’s troubling.”
Keith frowns. Slowly he sits up and draws a knee, leaving a comfortable space for Allura to settle her head in his lap before finding her hand again.
“You want to help them,” he finishes for her.
Allura looks up at him, and all Keith can see is the despondent conflict in her heart glazing over her affirming eyes. He only understands too well the loneliness of idealistic conviction, the stubbornness and self-doubt that resounds within her. He wants to drown them away with his love and tell her all the ways she amazes him, but he’s still so afraid of stumbling over words and keeps them to himself instead. He squeezes her hand.
“I’ve called for a meeting with Coalition representatives, but without Lotor’s active support, I’m afraid we won’t get anywhere.”
“Can’t negotiate if you’re nodding off in front of high-profile leaders of the universe.”
He lets go of her, leaning back just slightly with his arms for balance. Almost immediately, he misses the intimate warmth. Allura follows wordlessly, shifting without thinking to her side and turning into him. Then she looks away, fixating on the loosened black metallic strap of his boot.
“I know,” she sighs in resignation, turning back to him. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s easy to fall asleep with you.”
“Gee, thanks,” he answers, sarcasm dripping from his conservative response, but his eyes soften and a quiet smile escapes him. He glances at her with this smile – her favorite smile – before looking away, and as if time freezes, Allura falls in love with Keith all over again.
She giggles with a lightness she hasn’t felt since before the war.
“You know what I mean.” She sits up, rolling over onto her knees and straddling his extended leg. He comes back to her. “I love you, Keith.”
Allura leans into him, carefully, gracefully, and her hand finding his. When her lips brush against his, she closes her eyes and hears him in a low voice.
“I love you too.”
He kisses her deeply under the rosegold gradient glow of artificial sunset and wraps his hand around her neck, pushing forward as she tugs at his collar and pulls him back down with her. Allura’s hands run up from his collarbone and into his unkempt hair, wanting him closer. He pins her down with his lower leg on her sweeping gown.
“If you’re having trouble sleeping, I could think of a few ways to wear you out,” he whispers in her ear once they part. Allura inhales sharply, cheeks flushing dark red, and her heart races wildly at the smirk she knows is on his face.
“Not here,” she hisses, smacking him lightly on the shoulder, then biting her lower lip after a moment. She blushes harder when she sees him studying her reaction from the corner of her eye.
Keith can’t contain himself and laughs, falling over onto his back and next to her. Allura punches him hard enough in the stomach to hurt, and he quickly catches her fist with both of his hands as he grimaces.
“Yeah, I deserved that,” he admits after he collects himself. He lets go of her hand and extends an arm behind his head to rest as a pillow. Allura narrows her eyes at him and nudges his leg with her left foot. Keith opens his arm to her and she edges herself into his embrace, entangling their legs and slipping her hand just under his shirt. Gently, she rests her head on his chest, and casually he brushes her hair to the side, closing his arm around her slender waist and keeping her close.
“For the record, I was going to suggest we spar. What did you think I was going to say?”
“You’re terrible at jokes.”
Keith cracks an amused grin.
“You still like me.”
“I do,” Allura says, emphasizing her last word and cutting his amusement off cold in its tracks, and suddenly Keith is very incredibly aware of her cool touch against his skin snaking slowly across his waist and excruciatingly up his chest. He swallows and locks his arm around her to prevent her from moving so freely.
“Why roses?” Keith nearly chokes, trying so hard to distract himself.
“I know right?” she replies evenly, eyes closed and feigning ignorance, “They’re atrocious.”
“What?” he asks once her hand stops and he’s able to process her remark. Surprised, he loosens his hold on her and she inches closer to him.
“They’ve got a weird petal shape, sort of curved and malicious. And they’ve got all these little thorns on the stem so no one can go near them without getting hurt unless they’re careful. They disappear if you pick them out of the ground…”
“Only because Pidge designed them that way. The disappearing part, I mean,” he interjects, feeling surprisingly defensive about the Earthly plant.
“…They’re not the least bit romantic,” Allura continues, making no indication as to whether or not she heard him. She sighs softly, almost inaudibly, but Keith hears her and starts to lightly stroke her back.
“Why not just ask Pidge to replace them with juniberries or something the next time she visits?”
For a while, Allura is silent, and Keith can feel the increasingly lethargic and steady rise and fall of her chest. He looks up at the ceiling, cloaked behind fantastically dimmed lights, then back down at the mess of silver moonlight hair draped over him. He wonders if she has fallen asleep, but then she shifts and hides her head in his neck. As discreetly as he can without sudden movements, he extends his arm from behind his head and drapes it across her shoulders.
“I wouldn’t trade them for the world,” she says finally, her voice low and quiet. “They remind me of you.”
Keith stops. His eyes widen, words inexplicably caught in his throat, and then he forgets how to breathe. He lifts his forearm and covers his eyes, the soft fabric of his sleeve patting the starry mist that blurs his vision so wonderfully. His smile radiates like a faraway sun when he is sure she won’t see.
“Hey, Allura,” he says.
“Hm?” she replies, holding just barely on as sleep starts to consume her.
“I’ll take you to Earth one day. Show you real roses in fields that stretch farther than you can see.”
Then the final wall crumbles and falls into dust. His fingers grip onto the hard, cold surface of the floor, and he can hear his heart racing in anxiety, having never beaten without its armor. He shifts his body just slightly, dark violet eyes falling on her soft lips, and so quietly he asks for permission.
“Princess, may I kiss you?”
And it feels like a lifetime passes in a tick as Allura catches herself breathless. At first she quickly looks away, sensing the sudden warmth in her cheeks and afraid to let him see her blush, but it doesn’t take her long to abandon her inhibitions. She allows herself to smile softly, and turns to him, the ends of her long silver hair brushing against the floor as they fall from her knees.
She nods shyly, but Keith also observes the royal grace of her gentle posture and bright blue eyes. Her markings faintly glow luminescent pink, and he remembers that she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.
“You may.”
He is in love with her.
For a moment, he stares at her, trying to make sense of a million thoughts running through his mind, and then he decides he doesn’t care. His hand reaches for her and he hesitates before he cautiously cups her cheek.
“Allura,” he says in a low voice, leaning in so easily. The sound of her name escaping his lips is magnetic, and she wants nothing more than to erase the space between them. She can feel his breath, enviously steady unlike her own, against her skin, and closes her eyes.
In this part of the universe, under flaming gold stars, they finally meet. When Keith lightly presses his lips against hers, Allura finds his unfamiliar human touch sweet and electrifying. It contrasts sharply with the characteristically blunt words and stiff, guarded shoulders she has known since they had first met on Arus. She leans into him, wanting more, finding and holding on the edge of his dark shirt. She isn’t sure how humans like to kiss, but instinctively she spreads her lips and deepens it. As if he had the audacity to hold back, Keith responds with a starved passion, tilting his head, his hold on her cheek tightening and pulling her closer. Allura feels a fire growing in her chest.
With her free hand on his chest, she unwillingly pushes him back just barely enough to breathe, taking the opportunity of momentary space to gently bite down on Keith’s lower lip. She feels his lips curling mischievously into a grin against her own, and she smiles back.
In the ticks that pass for them to catch their breaths, they gaze into each other’s eyes, and Allura learns what her favorite color is. Feeling the sudden surge of repressed emotions she has never permitted herself to express, her hand pulls to her chest.
Jongin spends his days reading sappy romance novels and eating fruit under a scorching hot sun, and that’s okay. In the middle of a deadbeat summer, he doesn’t need a fan blasting in his face. Jongin hears the canopy of trees above him rustle with the wind, and there is nowhere else he would rather be.
