“So… Romelle told me. What you did.” Lance gripped the game controller tighter, mashing the buttons for his character’s combo slightly harder than normal.
He blamed his nerves… though he didn’t know why. He and Pidge had been regularly getting together for game nights since they had returned from Voltron’s final mission. At first, he had shown up at her house not a week after their return, a bag of peanut butter cookies in one hand and a new fighter game in the other. They hadn’t said anything to each other at first; Pidge had only looked at him and nodded, as though she had expected him. They had played the game into the night and eaten all the cookies, pausing only occasionally to dry tears that would silently begin rolling down their cheeks, unbidden. The loss was still so fresh…
Afterwards, it had been something of a silent agreement; barring any rare conflicts, they would get together once a week, playing games, talking, remembering, sometimes shedding tears, and occasionally laughing.
During one evening, Lance had paused after laughing with Pidge about a memory she had shared about a shopping trip she had taken with Allura. His smile faded as he reached a hand up and touched one of the faint blue markings next to his eye. “You know…” he had said, “I told her I would follow her anywhere.” A single tear cascaded down his cheek. “And I would have. I would have,” he whispered, wiping the remaining moisture from his cheek.
Pidge had looked at him, her own eyes growing misty. “I know…” she had placed a hand on his shoulder, “but I’m glad you didn’t.”
His eyes had snapped over to hers, confusion mixed with sadness apparent in his gaze.
“What I mean is… I couldn’t stand it. It was bad enough losing Allura; if we had lost you, too, I just…” she had looked away, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “I don’t know what I would have done,” she whispered.
In a sudden movement, Lance had slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Pidge’s gasp of surprise turned into a sob, matched only by the same kind of sound coming from Lance as they held to each other, shaking, trembling as every bit of repressed grief came flooding out of them.
As their gasping, shuddering breaths calmed into even breathing, Lance lifted his head slightly and, in a voice so quiet Pidge would almost have thought she imagined it, said, “I’m still here.”
“I know,” she had murmured back. “Please don’t ever leave.”
Now, Pidge turned her head slightly, not completely taking her eyes off the screen. “What I did?”
“Yeah,” Lance answered. “You know, on the shopping trip?” His voice softened. “With Allura?”
“Um.” Pidge paused the game and slowly turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and her cheeks coloring slightly. “Well… I have a perfectly good explanation!”
Lance raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.
“See, while I was grounded, I didn’t have anything to do, and I found out that someone had made a show about us and Voltron, and I watched it, and, while there were several things that weren’t quite right with the story, it turned out that it was a lot more popular than I knew, and the shopkeepers at the mall weren’t taking money, we had to trade something, but none of us had anything we could trade, but then Rizavi told one of the shopkeepers I was a member of Voltron, and he got really excited, and I thought if I went ahead and dressed like my character from the show and kind of acted like him, I could…”
“Pfffft, WHAT?!” Lance let out a whoop of laughter. “You actually did that?! I didn’t hear anything about that part of the story!”
“Wait. That’s not what you were asking about?” Pidge’s cheeks grew redder. “…Any chance I can convince you that you never heard anything about that? And that we can never speak of it again?”
Lance grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not a chance. I’m gonna need to hear more of that part of the story.”
Pidge scowled. “We’ll see.” She turned back to their game. “If you didn’t hear about that, then what-”
“Allura’s dress… and how you paid for it.”
Pidge’s face whipped back around to meet his eyes. She swallowed. “Oh.”
“That was a rare game, wasn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why would you have traded that? Why not something else?”
“Well,” she began, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, “the shopkeeper wouldn’t take just anything, and that was the only thing any of us had that he would take as payment.” She reached a hand up and rubbed the back of her neck, muttering, “It was just a game, not a big deal…"
“Not a big deal? Pidge, come on. Are you forgetting that I’m the one who spent hours with you in a fountain trying to scrounge up enough money to afford a game system and video game that, I might add, there were plenty copies of?”
She swallowed yet again, the sound of the un-paused video game announcing her K.O. in the background seeming to punctuate her argument’s loss. “I don’t think I could ever forget that,” she answered.
“I mean… I guess I was just curious, is all.” Lance smiled gently at her.
Pidge looked down at her knees. She sighed. “Allura was so worried; she wanted to go shopping because she said she didn’t have anything to wear on a date. When we found that outfit, she was excited, and then… she couldn’t pay for it. And I thought… I thought she might decide not to go. And, well… I knew how much you liked her. And how happy you must have been that she finally agreed to go out with you, and…” her voice caught a little, and she finished just above a whisper, “I just wanted you to be happy. And her, too.” She felt her face warm again with her words, and continued staring at her lap.
Lance reached over and laid one of his hands on one of hers. “Pidge.”
As he wrapped his fingers around her own, she knew she couldn’t avoid looking at him any longer. She squeezed his hand back, and turned her eyes to his face.
His expression caught her by surprise; she wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it was not the look he was giving her. The corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, his cheeks gave away a slight blush, and his eyes… his eyes locked on hers and held her gaze with an expression of hopefulness and… something else…
His other hand reached for something from his backpack, and placed it on Pidge’s lap. She pulled her gaze away and glanced down, then let out a surprised gasp.
“Killbot Phantasm 26? What? How…?” Her eyes flew back to his, surprise and confusion evident in her face.
Lance’s eyes, however, were now looking down at their hands, still joined together. “Romelle told me her version of the story a while ago; it took some time, and I had to call in a few favors, but I managed to track down a copy of the game, and, well… I guess I just wanted you to be happy, too.” He squeezed her hand again.
Pidge felt tears prick at her eyes, and squeezed back. “Lance…”
“But, can I say something that’s probably selfish?” His eyes met hers again, and at her nod, he continued. “I also… I also want me to be happy. And I think… no, I know… that means I need you.”
Pidge’s eyes widened and she found herself unable to speak, unconvinced that this wasn’t some sort of dream. Lance found her other hand with his, and gripped both her hands firmly in his own, then continued.
“When I’m with you, I feel like… I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to try to be something or someone else. I can laugh with you, I can cry with you, I can argue with you and never have to worry if that will make you like me less. When I’m with you, everything makes more sense. I think you’re amazing, and brilliant, and brave, and… you bring out the best in me. I can’t help but want to be around you.”
Pidge felt the tears rolling down the familiar tracks on her cheeks. Lance reached a hand up and gently wiped them away. He continued, “I’m not sure when it happened, but… I love you. And I think I have for a long time.”
Pidge reached her hand up to his face and wiped away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks as he spoke those last words. As she did, she paused near the side of his face and traced a finger over one of the marks that reminded her of her dear friend. A friend they had both loved, and who had loved them, their little family, enough to give her own life to give them all another chance. She knew others looked at those marks with feelings of sympathy, or confusion, or concern, but whenever she saw him, she only saw Lance: a man she loves, who was marked by love.
“I love you, too, Lance,” she said, hardly daring to believe the words she had thought for so long were finally escaping into the open air.
“Do you think… do you think we could give ‘us’ a try?”
“On one condition.” Pidge looked him straight in the eyes, her face moving closer to his. “Please don’t tell me you’ll follow me wherever I go. I don’t want you to follow me. I want you beside me. Always.”
“Well, that’s good,” he answered, his face shifting closer to hers, “because by your side is where I always want to be.”
“Good.” Pidge’s face closed the distance between them and she gently brushed her lips against his. Lance caught her lips with his own and kissed back tenderly.
As far as first kisses go, it was the perfect beginning of a new, long-awaited chapter.
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