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Purple Butterflies

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Keith remembers when Lance was in his room that night.

When he had nowhere else to go after he’d lost Allura. When he was at rock bottom: scared, sad, yet solemn. The way he cried his hopeless plea. He feared himself in the events; his lover was gone. Dead. She was remembered, but still, not here to comfort him. He remembers all too vividly, how stained Lance’s shirt was by the end of it, all by his tears. How he choked on his words and tensed up his back and put his head in his hands and cried out in pure agony. Keith had never had a lover before. He had no idea how he could be helped. But seeing him so pained made Keith hurt almost as badly. He wanted to be there, but had no clue how. All he could do was leave him to it.

Keith remembers when Lance asked to stay in his room that night.

Not in a romantic way, he was sure to make that clear. But he couldn’t be alone for his own sake. Keith remembered how drained he looked as he prepared for bed. He didn’t look fatigued, but… void. He remembered how his body sank into the bed, curling into fetal and welcoming Keith to lay beside him. How weak his voice sounded as he muttered words of gratitude while laying. How just before he fell asleep, asked what the marks on his face meant. How he compared them to little butterflies.

Keith wishes he didn’t remember how it felt.

The tinge in his heart when he couldn’t embrace him. The amount of jealousy he felt towards a dead woman. The sheer amount he resented Lance’s tired eyes. The brush of his hair against his shoulders, teasing at what could have been there instead. How Lance’s face was just inches from his. How his lips grazed the skin on his forehead and the way the sleeping Lance muttered her name in response. The way his own eyes poured in sheer pity. The odd feeling in him that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He wishes he didn’t remember Lance’s limp fingers intertwined in his, wishing, waiting for his awakening, praying he would clutch his fingers back. The amount of longing he felt towards what he knew he couldn’t have.

He wishes that he could forget about it all. Yet, his wishes always seemed to fail him.