Writing The Tides

Alexithymia (n.)

"Don't worry, it's quiet up here." Lance navigated through the hallways slowly, with Keith close behind.

They entered a small room on the opposite end of the house, the noise of the party slowly fading as Lance closed the door behind him. It was a cream colored room decked with bright photos on the walls and posters of various tourist spots. In one corner of the room was the bed, adorned with bright, yellow bed-sheets and a large, stuffed lioness sitting between the pillows. On the other corner, there was an orange wheelie chair pushed under a large desk, which was covered in robot and Lego parts, with some food magazines scattered to the side. Keith also couldn't help but notice the various floral plants stashed in every free space.

"This is Hunk's room. It's the furthest from the noise." Lance sat down on the fluorescent desk chair, "You okay?" he asked, eyes fixated on Keith, who hesitantly sat down on the yellow bed in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah. Go back to the party or whatever." Keith's breathing was finally normal again, and being completely honest, simply wanted to go home.

Lance was silent for a moment, getting up but stopping at the doorway, he looked back at the pale boy, observing Keith before speaking. "Is this why you don't wanna swim?"

Keith froze before meeting Lance's eyes. He stared at the blue from across the room before giving a tight-lipped smile.

"Something like that." He stated softly, breaking the eye contact.

Lance nodded softly, moving to leave before stopping again. "You can leave, if you want..." he mumbled before heading out the door.

Keith was alone again.

He sighed, collapsing onto the bed face first. He screamed into the sheets before deciding he didn't want to be walked in on midst exasperation.

So he got up, making his way out the door and into the hallways until he was out of the house.

Keith got on his bike and started to drive, until the noise left his atmosphere and he could finally hear himself think.

~

Keith sat on his bed with his legs stretched and his back against the gray walls, his laptop was balanced on his legs and he watched it with a stern face.

Keith had a writing homework due in the morning.

It was now a quarter past eleven and he hadn't even started.

Shiro yelled at him about procrastination an innumerable amount of times but by now had simply given up on his brother's work ethics. He'd get it done somehow.

He just had no idea how.

Keith took a deep breath, staring at the blank screen in front of him, before lowering his eyes to prompt homework his teacher had assigned two weeks prior.

Prompt #1- write about an intense feeling without mentioning the feeling itself.

Keith rubbed his eyes, returning his view to his laptop. The teacher had started them off pretty simple, not to mention given them a brief guideline of how long he wanted the story and such, which Keith appreciated, but he still had no idea what he was doing.

He raced the tips of his fingers along the keyboard before stretching his neck back to stare at the ceiling.

He closed his eyes and relaxed his mind, tuning out everything around him.

The cars outside, the buzz from the laptop, even the music he put on moments before.

He tried to clear his mind.

But then he thought about Lance.

His thoughts then rushed back to hours before.

When he was still at the party.

When he couldn't breathe.

Keith's head snapped back up and he quickly typed up the image in his head.

My mind was intoxicated.

He took a breath. "At least it's something." Keith thought out loud.

He cracked his knuckles before returning to the keyboard.

My mind is intoxicated. I try to breathe, but my lungs occupy uneasy air.

The air of the people who surround me, crowding my thoughts.

The air of young troubles and unspoken sorrows.

The air of everything unpleasant presenting itself all at once.

The air

Keith exhaled.

My mind is intoxicated. I try to breathe, but my lungs occupy uneasy air.

The air of the people who surround me, crowding my thoughts.

The air of young troubles and unspoken sorrows.

The air of everything unpleasant presenting itself all at once.

The air that reeked of him.

What a dangerous smell, I think to myself, before collapsing entirely.

I never quite knew

Keith blinked.

You could drown on land.

///

  I feel like I lack the talent to write for Keith so if you could just pretend his section was really good that would be great xD much appreciation ~Tan ♡