Chapter 7

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A//N introducinnnggg— Adam! Y'all are getting more Adam, whether you like it or not. Also, comment who else you want more of (Pidge coming next chapter anyways so anything other than that)

  It had been a day since the disastrous event in which Keith hadn't been able to handle simple facts; and Keith had skipped work. He wasn't exactly sick, he simply felt terrible.

   That being said, he was also avoiding Lance.

   "Keith!" Lance bounded over with a genuine grin plastered across his face.

   "Oh," Keith blinked at Lance. "Hey."

A pout drew itself across across Lance's face, "Are you mad at me?" He asked. "Is it because of the food? If it is, then I'm sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

   Keith made a face, "It's not about the food. I just... I'm so tired, Lance. I just want to be left alone."

   Lance remained concerned, hurt all across his face. "Okay, but I'm gonna be off work tomorrow. I'm 'sick', so we'll need to swap numbers. I'll need to stay updated." He managed a wink and a grin, but it was clear that he was still a little hurt. It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. But for some reason it did, and Keith couldn't fathom why.

After work, Keith headed straight to his old hangout-- the graveyard. There he found other 'emos' as society labelled them. He used to be one of them. He remembered it, and he remembered the anger. Outlawed all because of a stupid label humanity made for people they didn't understand.

   He walked up to a group of people smoking, and he recognised some of his old friends. And he used the term friends very loosely. He hung out with them, because there was nowhere else to go; he had never related to them nor liked them in any way. But that may have been because they were more scene. He would far sooner hang out in a bookstore, in fact he often wanted to, but they would stare at him, and he didn't like being stared at.

   "Keith?" One of the people asked incredulously.

   "That's me," Keith replied wearily.

   "Where did you go? Why did you stop coming here?" They said angrily. "We missed you." Lies. All lies, they just wanted his money for booze.

   "I got a job. I got a life." Keith said wearily.

   "What's that supposed to mean?"

   "Nothing. I'm just going to sit over there and not bother anyone." Keith trudged away and did exactly as he said, taking out a book and a torch as he turned the pages.

   "Keith, it's okay. We've pulled our lives together too, we're not the same people as we were."

   Keith glanced up, "I'm reading." He said coldly. "Leave me alone. Please."

   Everyone exchanged glance, retreating and leaving Keith alone with his thoughts. On second thought, that wasn't a great idea. He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but Lance.

   He felt bad. Extremely bad. He shouldn't, though, he knew that. He knew it wasn't his fault or anything. Lance was just... difficult. Keith couldn't understand him. Hell, he couldn't even understand why he wanted to understand Lance. Nothing made sense, and it scared him.

  He unlocked the door to his apartment, only to find Shiro perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch.

  "Keith..." He began wearily. He hesitated for a second. "We need to talk."

  Keith groaned, "Oh, no Shiro, no." He flopped down on the couch opposite to where Shiro was sitting. "Don't tell me, the sex talk. Don't worry Shiro, I won't get anyone pregnant. I learned from that mistake years ago when I got my boyfriend pregnant."

  Shiro shot Keith a wicked side eye, glaring at Keith. "Keith, don't. I'm not in the mood for jokes. I want to talk to you about your social life."

  Keith raised an eyebrow, "Okay mom."

  Shiro sighed, "Keith, please. Just listen. You have to make new friends. I know you used to be 'emo' and I know you always went on about how society rejected you so you rejected society, but your emo phase is over. It's time to move on, find happiness, find friends."

  Keith stood up, rage simmering in his eyes. "You know what?" He said calmly. Too calmly. It was that scary calm, when you know the storm is coming, you just don't know when, where you get that uneasy feeling crawling up your back. "Fuck you. Maybe I don't even want friends Shiro. Especially now I've got a taste of what friendship is about. And I'm not just meaning Lance." He stared at Shiro pointedly.

  Shiro glared at him. He wasn't good at the calm, threatening anger, much as he tried. "You want to talk about friends, Keith?" Shiro screamed. "Don't you think friends should respect each other?" He took a deep breath, scowling.

  Keith smirked, "Shiro, if you want to talk to me about respect, just don't. Not now, not ever. After all, I'm just a college guy just out of his emo phase, right? RIGHT?" He lifted his arm, extending his index finger toward the door.

  Shiro stared at Keith, a metaphorical deer in the headlights (duh). He hadn't had Keith's anger directed at him before, and he had barely scratched the surface. "You want me to leave?" He asked in a quiet voice.

  Keith said nothing, staring at him silently.

  "Oh." Shiro said quietly. "Oh, ok." He retreated quietly, not used to Keith's anger and obvious pain. He opened the door, stepping outside. He left the door open a crack, peeking inside, his gaze on Keith.

  Keith had his head in his hands, remaining silent for a few seconds. Then he unleashed a scream that rattled his bones and scorched his throat. Obviously satisfied, he stood up,moving with a perfectly pleasant expression to the kitchen to make himself some food.

  From there he must have noticed Shiro standing in the doorway, looking horrified.

Keith made eye contact with Shiro, staring at him as he retreated to his cd player. He slowly picked out a cd, still staring at Shiro. He pushed it in, pushing play.

  It was 'Welcome to the Black Parade' by My Chemical Romance. He smiled coldly at Shiro, walking over to him and closing the door.

A//N dirty laundry is life, bitch. If y'all haven't read it then wtf are you doing here go read it

Klance soulmate au //COMPLETED//Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora