Langst: One Shots

Shower Thoughts.

TW: self harm, major character death

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He watched the water slosh around his toes, and by refueled he curled them and wiggled them a few times.

Apathy was what he wore today, and he wouldn't lie and say he hadn't changed that out fit in a few days.

Apathy.

Lance went about his days as if a mindless zombie, eyes barely grazing his surroundings and over noticing the things that were alive.

Judging him.
Looking at him.
Hissing.

Yet he remained apathetic, unable to change that outfit, and listen to the ringing that came through his left year to mingle in his brain and get trapped inside.

Lance flinched for the umpteenth time that day. That week. Since that day...

"Are you kidding me?"

Lance closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop clicking in his chest. Willed for his breathing to return to normal.

He focused on the water around his toes, which was warm and cold whenever he'd lift his feet. It was a slow motion.

Apathy.

Lance wore apathy during the day but as he stood here in the shower apathy was gone and now he wore his own skin.

Call that a fashion no no.

His own arms snaked around his ro cage and held there, as if begging those bones to come together to suffocate his erratic lungs and stop his anxious heart.

They didn't listen.

The boy ran a hand across his chin, over his cheek, dug into his eye for a few seconds, then carded through the hair that stuck through his forehead.

When he pulled his hand away, inside his palm rested a small blade. Let us name this blade Apathy.

Lance hated the skin he walked around in all day, hated the brain that resides in his skin covered skull. The things he could hear.

The things he could do to a person only because of his anxious heart and his mind that never quit, and to accommodate for those things came apathy.

He heard it again, and he couldn't breathe. His palm closed slin the tiny blade.

"Are you kidding me?"

A frustrated sigh separated Lances throat, as if the blade itself had opened up the airway. This was not apathy.

Looking down, with trembling skin, Lance opened his palm and saw the small beads of blood were the blade had rested into his skin and nuzzled there.

He slid it between his middle and forefinger, holding it steady with his thumb as he held it to his wrist.

"Are you kidding me?"

Before his mind completely thought it through Lance opened up a pink line vertically down his wrist and then watched it turn red.

That was apathy that he saw, red and angry and not as emotionless as it was when he wore it.

Water washed it away quickly.
Lance made another cut, one that felt much like the metaphorical one that open Lances throat only moments prior.

He flinched again.

"Are you kidding me?"

Water washed it away again, and it washed away the multiple, multiple more that followed. Water washed it all away and soon it was a race.

A race to fix the damage that had been done. A blade both physical and mental.

A race of his heart, and his mind.

A race of the water to wash away what was on the surface, coming from above.

A race to get it all out as quickly as possible and yet with each angry red line it only free darker and darker in his chest.

So did the thoughts in his mind.
And the blood from the vertical lines in his wrist. Light of pain broke grouch that dark.

Apathy was gone, replaced with shock.

Lance looked down quickly to see the dark red liquid squeeze from the breaks in his skin, dripping and staining the water at his feet a pink color.

A color Allura once said represented their fallen people and suddenly Lance got it.
He understood why it was that color.

The water had long since ran cold and the former blue paladin stood there shivering, teeth clanking and his body freezing.

His blood ran cold,his back hit the cold metal surface of the shower wall behind him and he slid down.

Apathy hit the tiles of the shower floor and raced to the drain, but was unable to go down. Just another race.

Lances blue eyes looked down at his naked body, at his not so naked wrist.

It wore the remanents of Apathy.

Lance flinched once more, squeezing his eyes shut until eventually they would loosen.

Until they would stay closed, as the Aparhy drained out of him and left the boy cold in a cold shower coated with cold water that froze it all.

Apathy would turn blue, as blue as his lips and the tips of his fingers. The ends of his toes that still had water sloshing around them, except now it had changed.

Once more.
And he knows what you're thinking.

"Are you kidding me?"