Falling Too Hard - Klance | completed |

e i g h t

"You look like crap, buddy." Hunk sat down at his desk, glancing up from the stack of papers in front of him. Lance barely glanced up from where he lay in his cot. "Thanks, man."

"Seriously, Lance." Pidge took a bite of their pizza, staring at Lance with wide eyes. "You need to get up and do something. This funk you're in is really taking a toll on us. You can smell the depression a mile away."

"Ha, ha," Lance mumbled glumly. Pidge and Hunk exchanged a look, and Lance didn't like the icy feeling that crept up his back. It had been weeks since he'd last seen Keith, and Lance had barely moved from his corner of shame.

Slowly, carefully, as if not to startle him, Pidge and Hunk crept to their feet simultaneously.

"Guys?" Lance questioned slowly when they didn't say anything, raising his head. Hunk glanced at Pidge, and Pidge nodded once. Nobody moved for a full ten seconds. They were locked in a stare-off."

"Grab him!" Pidge shouted, voice shrill. Lance didn't have time to move as Hunk lunged, grabbing Lance by the shoulders and yanking him off of his makeshift bed.

"Hey!" Lance shouted, squirming in Hunk's grasp. "Put me down!"

"Sorry, Lance." Hunk easily sprinted to his door, squeezing Lance tight so he wouldn't escape. On cue, Pidge grabbed the handle, twisting hard and yanking the door open. Hunk all but threw Lance out of his flat, setting him down on the steps.

"Guys!" Lance whined when the door slammed behind him. He turned, banging on the door. "Come on! Let me in!"

"Sorry!" He could hear Hunk shout, Pidge giggling somewhere in the background. "You're not allowed back in until you become happy!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Lance shouted, banging on the door again. "Hunk!"

"That's up to you, buddy!" Hunk shouted. "Your sadness is clogging up my home!"

Oh, this was just great. Lance let out a frustrated, half scream, half groan. How was he supposed to 'become happy'? The thought had him almost repulsed. He was quite content with his way of living.

Lance swore, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk in front of him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking the pebble with such force it cracked the window of a bus. Broken window.

Keith's face flashed through Lance's mind, and he tore his eyes away from the sight. He needed to go do something. Maybe Hunk and Pidge were right. Maybe he did need to be happier. He needed to find something he was passionate about.

The message on his fortune cookie ran through his mind, and he paused. Passion will only bring consequences.

He was passionate about Keith, that was for sure. God damn, why couldn't he get this boy out of his mind?

His fingers brushed against something shoved into the bottom of his pocket. Confused, he furrowed his eyebrows, pulling it out. It was a crumpled napkin.

What?

Slowly, Lance unfolded it, pursing his lips as he read what was written. Her handwriting was more faded now, but he could still make out his old waitress' name, Christine, along with her phone number. He'd received it when he and Hunk were stalking Keith and his girlfriend. Lance assumed he'd thrown it away.

He needed something he was passionate about. Would making out with a chick equivalate to passionate? Lance didn't know. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, fingers hesitating as he stared at the scrawled handwriting for the longest time.