Eventually (Klance)

Chapter One // I smiled

"The human face is, after all, nothing more nor less than a mask."

Lances POV

We had just gotten back from Beta Traz. We were celebrating another victory.

"Pidge, that was great hacking skills!"

"Shiro, you got Slav! Congratulations!"

"Haha did you see Shiro lose it! Lol."

I didn't want to hear it anymore. I slipped out, and of course, no one notices. I walk to my room and enter, shutting the door behind me.

I sat down on my bed and stared at my hands. Once again wondering why I was even here. I sighed and lay down staring at the ceiling.

Why am I here..?

I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually I went numb from my thoughts. I didn't like feeling nothing. It made me feel worst.

I had to feel something.

I went into the bathroom in my room and opened the cabinet underneath my sink.

Keiths POV

I saw Lance leave the room, and I wondered why he wasn't going to celebrate with us. Hunk was even going to cook something special tonight. I thought he loved his cooking.

He must be tired.

After congratulating everyone we walked towards the dining area to talk more about the mission.

"Ahaha you should've seen it! Shiro was so angry with Slav on the way back haha!" Pidge wheezed.

"Aww man. I wish I was there!" Hunk whined.

"What about Lance?" I asked.

"What about him?" Asked Pidge, eyeing me.

A slight pink brushed onto my cheeks,

"Well, I mean, he was there too, right? What did he do?" I asked again.

"Hmmm. Oh! He freed Slav! It was cool..."

"Speaking of, where is he?" Asked Hunk.

"Umm. I'll go check on him." I said, already walking out.

I knocked on Lance's door only to be answered by silence.

He must be asleep. After all he needs his 'beauty rest'.

I scoffed at the idea. Who cared that much about their appearance?!

I walked back and told the others he was asleep. We then enjoyed the rest of the night together.

Lances POV

I grabbed the razor that hid behind all of my skin care products. I pulled up my dark blue sleeves and looked at all the white marks against my skin. I also looked at the deep red scabs from more recent cuts.

I pressed the razor gingerly on my arm and braced myself. I pressed into the skin and winced. Blood started flowing from the wound.

I made a few more.

A few turned into several.

Turned into more.

And more.

And more.

Worthless!

Seventh wheel!

Terrible pilot!

Loud!

Obnoxious!