Fake Mistletoe | Plance

8 (Pidge)

Lance arrived at the snack table again after a very entertaining dance with Keith. He triumphantly held his hand out to me, and I had no choice but to take it.

"Enjoy," Hunk winked at me, eyebrows raised suggestively.

Lance's grasp on my hand was soft and light as he led me to the middle of the floor. As we reached the centre, another song began to play.

Comin' over in my direction

Lance's eyes lit up, a wild glimmer aglow.

"I know this song! It was around when my parents were kids... and it's awful, but so good. So good." I groaned slightly as he took my other hand.

Turn every situation into heaven, yeah

Oh, you are my sunrise on the darkest day, got me feeling some kind of way

Make me wanna savour every moment

"Lance, this is trash," I said as he twirled me around, my skirt flowing around like a lightly tinkling stream. I meant what I'd said. The whine in the singer's voice was enough to drive any sane person crazy. 

"I know," he murmured, watching me as I laughed. A singer began singing in Spanish, to which Lance sang along under his breath. "I understand these lyrics,"

"It's really cool," I said, slightly breathless, "That you can speak two languages,"

"Is it? It's just... second nature to me," Lance blew what I'd said off. "And besides, you understand computers. That's a language in itself,"

"I guess," I said, grinning at him.

*

A few songs had passed, by which point Keith and James had joined us amongst everybody else. Allura and Hunk were together and chatting while semi-dancing. I spotted Shiro conversing with the commander, Curtis, animatedly. N-7 had seemingly coaxed Matt onto the dance floor. Allura met my eyes and looked to Lance with a wide grin. In return, I rolled my eyes and turned back to him, getting back into the feel of the music as best I could. I stumbled over Lance's feet, earning a laugh from him and some people around us.

I'd never been any good at dancing, ever. I'd always trip or blunder at some point, be it with Matt, Mom, Bae Bae, just me or Lance. I sucked, to put it lightly.

Lance didn't seem to care too much for an elated grin had crept its way onto his face. I couldn't help but mirror him while he stepped around other people's legs and bopped his head with the music, not letting go of my hands. 

We'd danced through around four songs by that point, and it seemed Lance had no intention upon stopping, even with my evident and heavy lack of skill or ability.

James and Keith had departed the dance floor and were engaging in conversation with my parents, Shiro and Curtis had migrated to the dancefloor and it was an understatement to suggest that Curtis seemed flustered. Allura and Hunk were chatting with Rizavi, Kinkade and Leifsdottir, while Matt and N-7 remained dancing together harmoniously. I finally brought my eyes to meet Lance's, leaving me feeling painfully short, as always. He had a trace of a soft smile lingering on his face and it widened as I returned it.

"When you said you couldn't dance, you really meant it, huh?"

"I said that I didn't dance," I flushed. "And besides, you're the one who asked me to dance, I'm fully aware of the fact that I'm awful,"

"Touche," I allowed him to pull me slightly closer in order to dodge somebody else. "But I have a total of zero regrets for that,"

"Thanks," and before I could let anything go any further, "I can't help but ask, are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe," Lance considered. "I mean, I'm here, dancing with one of the best-dressed people here and she's also been a pleasure to dance with, so... I'd say yes, I'm flirting with you, Pidge." I shook my head at how painfully Lance that was. He continued dancing as if nothing had been said at all, while I remained in step, yet everything in my head had been thrown out of place and into panic mode. Lance was flirting. Normal. With me, however, that was the part I could hardly cope with.

"Okay," I managed to say. My thoughts were all over the place. Spilling onto the mental floors, splattering over the walls and covering absolutely everything. Lance. His self-built appeal, his worries, his dreams, his unashamed charm, his everything.

Quiznak.

It was at that moment I half-decided I was done with myself and everything in the universe. In all realities.

But then I was whisked back to my reality as the song faded and I unlocked my eyes from Lance's.

"All okay, Pidge? You seem unsettled," 

"Yeah," I sighed, unsure of what else to say. "Shall we get a drink?"

"Sure, let's go," He kept a tight hold on my right hand and we stepped around people like they were obstacles in a slalom and found ourselves at the drinks table, slightly breathless and flustered.

"It looks like the others have already gone to bed," I remarked, scanning the room. "Except them," Rizavi, Kinkade and Leifsdottir remained, engrossed in an animated conversation. Lance picked up his jacket, which had been left draped over a chair, and slung it over his arm.

"That's no problem. It's good to have some quality time, just us, right?"

"Sure," We arrived at the drinks table and poured ourselves some of... whatever it was that resided in the carafes on the table. "Let's get out of here, it's boiling."

"You're right, let's go," Lance replied, taking a casual sip of his drink. It was an odd teal in colour but smelt like both the ocean and jasmine in one. "It's not too bad," he smiled as he noticed my close inspection of it.

We made our way to the door, and right as we reached it, Lance's jacket slipped from his arm and onto the floor. I bent to retrieve it, and in doing so, spilt my drink down my top.

"Oh my god," I huffed irritably. "This just had to happen, didn't it?" Lance snickered at me, my shirt splattered with a yet darker spot of drink. "I'll wash it,"

"Hey Pidge! Look up!" Matt called from across the room, he and N-7 being a pair of the few people left. He was pointing to the top of the doorway, and apprehensively, Lance and I moved our gazes upwards.