How Far I've Come (Keith x Reader)

✰The Resort; Chapter Thirty ✰

Today's the day, you think.

You remember, planting the idea and hoping it grows happily, wanting nothing but for the relief to last longer than you know it will. You remind yourself of the dangers that could show themselves over and over, waiting until Lotor decides to keep you trapped in this floating metal prison until he wants otherwise. Though, it's possible you could never listen to him if he demanded such a thing. It's today.

"Are you almost done getting yourself ready?" Lotor asks, sounding less patient than the last six times he asked over the last thirty minutes. You may have a few hardships going on in your brain, but you're always counting.

"Just a few minutes, prince." You hum, distracted by the beautiful imaginary ideals of the upcoming hours. They tempted you with high expectations, which you have a right to, with your fiancé being tyrannically powerful and powerful in the pocket, too. Though, his intimidation shakes like a feeble mouse before a flaming dragon compared to your excitement.

"I have never heard you call me 'prince' before." He notes. "You sound a lot better than you did yesterday."

That could be because yesterday you threatened me with fear, shouting until I was sobbing into myself, folded like soggy paper.

Though, you'd never say that sort of thing to his face.

"Well, after my health issue last night I slept like a baby." You have a small spring in your step, trotting around the bathroom as you talk to Lotor, who's outside the door. "It was spectacular. Did I snore? Fate really does want me to have a fair break today, doesn't it?"

"You've earned the rest." Lotor says, arms folded as he leans against the wall you dance behind. "And no, you were quite peaceful."

Yesterday's call has him frazzled, left in disarray, and he hates being anything less than organized and victorious.

Voltron is currently the highest and most dangerous threat to the empire, and with the unknowing chance of them striking a day early (without his strict set of rules), his guard is high, alert and unwavering. A rubber band, one more centimeter of painful stretch away from snapping. "Are you sure you want to go to the hot springs? We could stay onboard, and-"

"I'm sure."

You pull a cover-up over your suit, feeling softly secure under the black drape, cascading down your body like waterfalls of deep, dark liquid obsidian.

"Interrupting me, are you?" He asks, a playful warning in his tone. Only, the playful was silent.

"My apologies. I didn't intend to." You say lowly, but it can't knock down your mood more than a small chip in the brick or so. He doesn't answer, simply remaining silent outside.

With extra energy under your feet, you slide out of the bathroom and grab your reading book. When you're going with a man who only ever talks politics and british accents, you never know when you could use an escape. "Do you think I'll need anything else?"

"No. Hold on to me." Lotor says sternly during your exit from the dark room, holding his arm out at an angle. It remains open, positioned for you to keep a good grasp on his forearm. Linked to his left side, you walk into the dim hallway in pursuit the transportation capsules.

But it's. . . crowded.

Uncomfortable.

For one, there's a dense tension between you and your partner that leaves a silence awkward enough to make a child cry. It raises caution, stacking like a pancake on top of your suspicions of what happened last night as well as your confusion with Team Voltron and their claims in your past.