Lance stared at the door, one fist clenched around the fabric of the sweater and the other reaching up to knock.
It hadn’t taken much effort to find a yarn-like material to use, especially with Coran’s help. Lance had been coerced into making tiny tiny sweaters for the mice as payment, and he had to say, they looked more adorable than ever.
Maybe he could just…turn around and forget it. This had Bad Idea written all over it. There were a billion way less weird ways to apologize. What was he thinking?
Except, as luck would have it, Keith chose that moment to approach the door and step out, nearly walking straight into Lance.
“Oh, uh, hi, Keith!” Lance staggered back a few steps, sirens going off in his head. How was he supposed to think? He had a script! “Uh, fancy meeting you…here…”
Dammit. That was not on the script. He felt his face heating up.
“I uh—so I know you live in the desert, back on Earth, but uh, a lot of the planets…I mean, and the castle too, gets…cold sometimes. And doesn’t the desert get cold at night? Anyway, I had like, a ton of yarn left after I finished the mice’s, so… This should, probably fit? I mean, we…the tree, so… I mean, if you don’t want it, that’s fine! I can uh. Your door was just…closest.”
He stared down at the floor and made a frustrated noise, shoving the red sweater at Keith’s chest.
“Just take it! Bye!”
And with that, he marched off very fast in the opposite direction.
Nailed it.
IN 3. . . 2. . . 1. . .
