Plance prompt for @february-erika (I figured y’all would just send asks but bless your soul for linking the song in the reblog)
“We’re made from the same dust Like stars from the same dusk “Don’t dive in, it’s dangerous” Hold on, here we go”
— Distraction, M1LDL1FE
It seems the advice is endless. “There’s someone out there for you”, “You just have to wait”, “You’re not looking hard enough.”
Ever since Lance could remember, he’d been bombarded with conflicting advice. It’s either that he has to keep looking or he has to stop trying so hard and just let love “happen” or whatever that means. There came a point where Lance became restless. If someone, anyone, could love him like that... even if it wasn’t perfect... it would be enough. So he tried. He tried to find a connection, even the smallest one, everywhere he went. Maybe it did make him a bit of a flirt. Maybe it did make some of it seem disingenuous.
And then, somewhere along the line, he gave up. You could say things got too hectic with Voltron. Things got too dark. Other things became too thought-consuming. But the truth was he lost the hope all that advice gave him. He stopped thinking there was someone out there for him. He stopped thinking he was going to have that kind of happy ending. It wasn’t until he was here, lying on his back under the stars. And she was there, sitting behind him just so, in a way that made the twinkling lights behind her look like a damn halo. And he began to think that maybe, just maybe, he had been looking too hard in all the wrong places. Maybe, just maybe, right behind him, right above him, was a girl who loved peanut butter and hated peanuts, who found it easier to befriend a robot than to befriend him, who fell asleep at the keyboard of a computer almost every night, who never stopped surprising him, and who just so happened to be the person. Pidge looked down at him, her face now perfectly visible, glasses just hanging at the end of her nose, and asked, “What are you looking at? We’re supposed to be star-gazing, not Pidge-gazing.”
He reached a hand up to touch her cheek. Her face felt warm. “I think I’d rather be Pidge-gazing.”