You really love him.
"Good morning!" Lance was practically yelling in your ear. "What are you doing, Lance?" you ask him. "Well, my darling love, my gorgeous boy, I'm waking you up so I can have a player 2."
"Killbot Phantasm III, you see, makes me feel pathetic when I have no player 2."
"What about Pidge? They love that game! You bought it with them!" you exclaim, desperate to get some sleep. "They're asleep and I don't want to face their wrath for disturbing that..." He replies, a little sheepishly.
"And you had no qualms waking ME up?" you respond incredulously.
"Well, of course!" he says, "because you won't hurt me. You love me. You desperately and hopelessly love me." "Lance-" you begin, blushing. He cuts you off. "No, you don't need to say anything."
"You confessed, like, three months ago."
"Quiznak! Couldn't you ask my brother?" at this point, you will throw ANYONE under the bus so you can sleep.
"Dude, have you ever seen his arm? If waking him up triggers some muscular reaction, I'm not getting near him." You have to admit Lance has made a fair point. God, you love him.
You love him so much. You would die for him. You nearly did on more than one occasion.
If you can sacrifice yourself for him, how much does your sleep really matter if you're losing it for this boy? It doesn't at all. "Okay, but only because you said to and because I love you. Not because I want to." you grudgingly concede.
You look up at his face. Have you been looking at his feet this whole time? You think you have. God, you love this boy.
You play and play for hours on end. You have nothing else to do. Hunk even pops in at one point to give you cookies. The two of you eat them happily as you continue to play.
At some point, you fall asleep.
You wake up to find yourself in bed, with your blanket pulled over you. He's done this. You know he has. You rub your eyes and look around. Wait a moment. This isn't your room.
Is it? You stand up and walk over to a string of Polaroid pictures hanging, artfully clothespinned to a piece of twine.
How much Polaroid film did Lance get and where did he get it? That doesn't matter at this point. What are these?
Oh my god. Pictures of you and him. At the space mall. On the castleship. Almost everywhere you've ever been. Kissing or hugging in every one. You look back to your bed.
A hippo plushie sits next to your pillow, waiting for you to find it. You turn to another wall. A bulletin board is hung there, surrounded by fairy lights.
Your eyesight fails you once more, so you need to walk over some more to see what's on it.
More pictures. The whole team, each of them holding a sign with a personal message to you. You take some time to read them.
And then, right under the bulletin board, your Marmora knife sits in a holder nailed to the wall. Lance has left a little note tied to its handle.
It's kind of long. You read it for awhile. He talks about how he missed you. He talks about how scared he was waiting for you to come back.
He talks about how scared for you he is now after what happened. He knows what happened? You know he wants you to stay with him.
And then you realize that one of the reasons you love him so much is because two people who value themselves below everyone they know will value each other higher than anyone.
You two have the same issues, you just expressed it first and almost no one stopped you.
And then you realize you're crying. You're sobbing so hard your body is convulsing.
You can't believe Lance would hate himself as much as you hate yourself, especially since you see him as so good and perfect and confident.
You lie down right where you are on the floor. You need time to yourself. You think maybe if Lance thinks you're so good then maybe you're not so awful.
And maybe you should tell him about all this. But first you need to just hit pause, so you lie on the floor for hours.
You don't know how long it's been, actually.
Later, you stand up. You walk to his room, only to find him sitting in bed, looking at pictures of the two of you. he has a lot of pictures. You're about to start talking.
You're about to tell him about how you feel.
You're about to tell him how much you love him. About how amazing he is and why he's so amazing. Listed chronologically, of course.
You want to sit down next to him and kiss him so he can't say a word to oppose you. You want to tell him how awful you've always felt.
You want to tell him that you thought everyone hated you until he said something. You want to tell him that he saved you from trying again. There's so much you want to tell him. But he talks.
"Keith." he says "You have no idea how much I love you." He says everything you were about to say and more. He loves you. He thinks you're amazing. He kisses you before you argue with him.
He says he thought everyone hated him until you said something.
You both talk through what passes for nighttime. You talk through the morning. Neither of you cares. You'd give the universe to talk to each other for five minutes.
After another day, you both fall asleep on each other. Life continues as usual, but both of you continue with a new passion and you make a point of telling each other everything.
There are no secrets between you, you agree. Never again.