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The wooden amber planks creak so loudly with every step that the echoes of tired, laughing children and overhead seagulls fade into the background. Hands stuffed in deep jacket pockets and with nothing to do after Hunk offhandedly tells him to find Lance, Keith wanders along the boardwalk, passing by modest food shacks, beaten and weathered down by the elements but thriving with late afternoon traffic thanks to the current heatwave. He weaves easily through dwindling crowds, avoiding sticky popsicles and dripping ice cream cones, and finally when he reaches the edge of the ocean, the orange sun glaring in his eyes, he turns a corner.
Immediately, he spots her waiting near a pick-up corner for snow ice, standing out from the crowd with her silver hair low-braided in a bun and tied neatly with a glittery pink ribbon. From this distance, he observes the fascinated stares and hushed whispers from the detached circle formed around her. Keith notices the boy talking animatedly with her, attempting multiple times to edge into her personal space but somehow never succeeding as Allura laughs politely at the joke he tells her.
Keith’s hands come out of his pockets and he makes his way toward them. He strides into the circle, breaking the crowd quite easily with his presence, and he takes off his dark sunglasses, hooking them onto his collar.
“Keith!” Allura exclaims brightly, relief deeply entrenched in her tone.
Keith smirks, not missing the washed-out blond surfer next to her and watching the hope fall instantly from his face.
“Allura,” he replies smoothly, grabbing her full attention. “Where’s Pidge?”
“Lance came by twenty minutes ago and I got bored being a third wheel. They’ve just gone to the arcade,” she explains, meeting his eyes and sharing a wordless deliberate look.
He scowls. “He ditched us when Coran and Hunk started arguing about the best way to grill a kebab. And then Hunk banned me from the beach until sunset.”
“What?” Allura’s eyes widen in surprise.
“I only burned like five patties!” he blurts out defensively, averting his gaze and crossing his arms, then adding much more quietly, “...And I might have also spilled the marinade.”
Allura bursts into giggles, and her rings of saccharine laughter melt away the shallow grievance on his mind. Keith can’t seem to find it in himself to stay annoyed any longer. His shoulders relax, and he lets Allura tug at his jacket sleeve, pulling him with her off to the side of the stand and away from the attention of onlookers. Now standing in the shade under a slanted canopy, Keith turns and leans back comfortably against the wall.
“To be fair, maybe it’s better to leave food preparation to those more gifted in the culinary arts,” she teases. Her fingers playfully climb up his chest, gently tapping the frame of his sunglasses, taking in the way it drags down his dark T-shirt just so to reveal bare skin and a teasing hint of collarbone.
With a shy smile forming, she points at the corner of his frown, but Keith stares back at her blankly, not understanding. Allura’s eyes sparkle in amusement. She leans forward and gently presses her finger against his lips, pushing upward. Startled by her touch, a light blush spreads across Keith’s face. She bites her lip and pokes him again, facing down to hide her own flushed cheeks, and this time he can’t help but smile. His eyes fall on her lips, painted in the color of cotton candy. His heart racing, he grabs her hand and lifts it away from his face. Allura glances back up and finds herself struck by the intense fire in his eyes. With his other arm, he holds her waist and pulls her just a little closer. She can’t look away.
“Order 23!”
“Ooh, that’s me!” she says a bit too loudly, curiously out of breath and abruptly letting go of his sleeve.
She jumps out of his embrace and spins in the direction of the pick-up corner, her embroidered white sundress twirling against the wind. He’s struck by the grace in her step, fixating on the light bounce of her ribbon and the loose ends of her hair curling perfectly. Now he’s several steps behind her and the stardust aura of her silhouette tugs at his strings of his heart. When she turns around, she has a sizeable paper bowl of dark green snow ice in her hand.
Keith raises an eyebrow.
“Matcha?”
“What’s that?”
He points to the bowl.
“The flavor you ordered.”
“Oh…I only ordered it because it was the only one that had strawberries.”
He scans the menu and gives her a questioning look, not quite believing her.
“Without condensed milk,” she adds sheepishly.
“There it is. You know the whole thing’s ice cream, right?”
Allura grimaces as if Keith had committed a crime by pointing out the obvious. “Humans have disgusting diets. I’ve seen how you all get your milk.”
He shrugs, trying his best to hold back a laugh.
“I actually don’t like milk that much,” he reassures her, reaching out and sliding his fingers into hers. He grabs a plastic spoon and two napkins from the counter and leads her away from the snow ice stand.
“So what is matcha exactly?” she asks, matching his step as they start walking back to the main section of the boardwalk. Holding the bowl in one hand and Keith’s hand in the other, Allura turns and motions at him to give her the spoon. Abiding her request, Keith sticks the small plastic spoon in her mouth and receives a cheeky, appreciative grin. He quietly lets go of her hand so she can eat, and missing the warmth, stuffs both of his hands in his pockets.
“Crushed tea leaves,” he answers simply, stealing a quick glance at her just as she scoops a soft bite of the snow into her mouth. His throat parches, and suddenly Keith really wants something to drink.
“Well, I like tea,” she considers out loud, and her eyes light up when she finds that she enjoys the taste.
Excitedly, Allura licks her lips before taking another bite and Keith quickly diverts his attention from her to the small stand displaying an impressive round dispenser of freshly squeezed pink lemonade drenched in golden honey and topped with thinly sliced lemons. They stop to buy a cup, but receive a second cup – despite humble protest – free when the generous owner discovers that Allura has never had pink lemonade before, having come from a faraway galaxy. Keith ends up carrying two iced pink lemonades in his hands, too embarrassed to drink from either.
“Let’s find somewhere to sit,” Allura suggests, and soon they spot and claim an empty table on the beach side of the boardwalk, lined by windswept fences and hot sand spilling over from the nearby steps.
Keith sets down the drinks as Allura sits and places the snow ice bowl in front of her, dark red syrup drizzling down haphazardly around the bowl and mixing in with the layered green dessert. Allura leans in toward the table, trying to avoid the hard sunlight hitting her back and Keith readily reaches for the cool pastel rainbow umbrella, angling the pole closer toward Allura before swinging his leg and taking his seat across from her. Allura bites her lip eagerly and picks out a strawberry to eat from the bowl.
Idly, Keith gazes out toward the beach and in the far-off distance, he sees the rest of their group with the exception of Shiro – probably making a last-minute run for beer since Lance had inevitably announced to everyone in the car on the way here that he forgot to buy some – near the cove. He can barely make out the outlines of Hunk and Coran busily preparing food and Pidge smacking Lance on the head for trying to set off fireworks before sunset, the latter causing Keith to laugh.
Allura turns and looks over her shoulder to see what’s grabbing Keith’s attention, and when she finds their friends too, she smiles pleasantly to herself. They watch them quietly for a while, and Allura doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Keith unexpectedly interrupts her train of thought.
“Your ice is melting,” he observes plainly, head resting on his hand and watching the snow ice run down the side of the bowl as he takes a long sip of lemonade.
Allura swings back toward him, and gasps when she looks down at the bowl.
“Oh, quiznak!” she panics, rushing to clean the syrupy mess with a napkin before it touches the table and quickly working to eat around the edges. Keith laughs at Allura’s flustered reaction, much to her passing displeasure.
After he takes the used napkin and tosses it into a nearby trash can, they soon settle into a comfortable silence, with Allura carefully finishing her snow ice and Keith lazily pacing his lemonade as he watches people come and go. The chaos of overheard, excited conversations is suffocating, so in the end he pays attention to no one and nothing. As the stalls and restaurants begin to lock down their fronts and the crowds slowly shuffle and herd into parking lots on their way home, the walkway finally clears of beach-goers until only Keith and Allura are left. Keith exhales slowly, and then realizes he’d been sipping from an empty cup and unaware of the tension he’d been bottling.
When he glances over to check on Allura, he sees her playing with her snow ice, circling her spoon around and around the bowl and mixing suspiciously leftover toppings with the creamy snow until it resembles tasteful slush.
“Keith…” she says finally, giving up and looking at him wistfully. “Do you want the rest?”
Allura shyly pushes the bowl in his direction, and Keith’s eyes soften sympathetically. He holds his hand out for her spoon and she gratefully beams at him. He takes the bowl and spoon in his hand, assessing what’s left to eat, and notices the disproportionate amount of red beans off on the side.
“You don’t like these?” he asks with a genuinely surprised expression on his face. He scoops out a big spoonful of them to show her.
Allura averts her gaze, her cheeks matching the color of her markings. “Oh, no! I like them! It’s just…” she starts, and then hesitantly turns back to face him. “Those are red beans, right? The other day, you had a look on your face when you mentioned that you haven’t had them since you were a child, so I thought maybe…” She blushes furiously, directly confronted by her own self-consciousness.
Keith freezes, stunned speechless by Allura’s gesture and heat rising in his chest. His mind hastily rewinds back to the team’s chance conversation about favorite ice cream flavors and the shocked stares he had received that had prompted an explanation when he had casually answered red bean instead of something more characteristically ambiguous like I don’t know, rocky road? He hadn’t expected Allura to remember, let alone intentionally save some from her own dessert for him. He doesn’t recognize this strange, new feeling, the way it overwhelms his thoughts and sets his heart into hyperdrive. He doesn’t know how to react, so he frowns, and Allura’s face falls.
“I’ve made a mistake! I’m so sorry, Keith!” she says immediately, reading his expression and starting to spiral. It had been so silly to even assume. Of course he doesn’t want them. If he had wanted to eat them, he would have ordered some himself… She hides her face in her hands.
Keith’s eyes widen in light panic at her startled apology and he drops the spoon back in the bowl. He quickly stands up and leans over to grab her hand. Allura peeks out meekly at him.
“I…I didn’t mean it that way, Allura, I…” he pauses nervously, “Thanks.”
Her shoulders relax and he gently squeezes her hand. Without letting go, he sits back down, pulling her hand toward him. Allura chews on her lip and smiles halfheartedly.
“I’m glad you did,” he says, slowly and quietly, unable to meet her eyes. He tightens his grip on her hand, clasping it tightly, and Allura lets herself breathe again. When she’s at her most vulnerable, the fleeting moments in which she remembers she’s just a girl that had never asked to lead and win a war, never fallen in love before, Keith’s words are simple and understanding, a shining beacon calling her back into the world when she falls too deeply into herself. She finds a palace in the cast of his touch. She wants to tell him that much, someday. Regretfully too soon, he draws back from her and picks up the spoon again.
It doesn’t take long for Keith to finish the rest of the snow ice, and Allura finds joy in watching him. She starts drinking her lemonade, its unbearable sweetness both extraordinary and refreshing. The sun, now nearing the horizon, colors the sky in brilliantly deep shades of gold, magenta, and cerulean. Light reflects against Keith’s hair, messier than usual after diving into the ocean, and Allura swears it looks violet. She resists the urge to reach out and touch it.
Swallowing the last bite, Keith glances up, and Allura’s twinkling blue eyes transform into crescent moons. His heart involuntarily skips a beat. The sound of loud, crashing waves along the shoreline roars in his ears and drowns out his thoughts. He imagines the absence of their friends, him grabbing her with his hands, kissing her until dark, and pulling her infuriating ribbon until it isn’t perfect anymore.
A sudden breeze causes Allura to shiver, and it’s enough to pull Keith out of his daze. He shrugs off his jacket and gets up, rounding over to her side of the table. She looks up at him with wide adoration, hugging her arms, and he drapes his jacket over her shoulders. Without missing a beat, she grabs onto its collar tightly and sinks into the warmth. He grins and sits down next to her, facing outward. He leans back against the edge of the table, crossing his arms.
“You were staring at me for a long time,” he says.
“Well, I was thinking,” Allura explains, her teasing voice intoxicating his senses.
“About?” he asks, unsuspecting.
“How I have a really cute boyfriend.”
Keith’s face flushes dark in an instant.
“Oh,” he replies lamely, caught off guard and faltering, lowering his arms. He doesn’t know what to say and Allura giggles. She reaches for his hand and holds it tight, not needing any bigger reaction. Keith stares at their joined hands, and an easy calmness washes over him.
“I like this,” admits Keith softly, and Allura smiles warmly, shifting closer to him.
“Me too.”
Half of the sun and its light still remain, but he surrenders himself to Allura’s incandescent eyes. Keith leans in impossibly close, and Allura shuts her eyes before he does his. He kisses her lightly, tasting and savoring the sugar on her lips. Allura’s hand presses into his thigh and slides up, dragging the hem of his shorts with it and igniting a burning intensity within him. She breaks off reluctantly for air, and Keith eagerly grabs her waist, pulling her in when her eyes flutter open, then wide and she pushes him back with enough force that he loses his balance and nearly falls on his arm.
“Wha–” he starts, looking bewildered at her. Her face is scarlet and he sees her staring at something behind him. He turns around instantly to find a tall man, jaw slightly agape, carrying two large packs of beer with his robot arm and a small bowl of guacamole in the other.
“S-Shiro!” he chokes from shock.
“I, uh, got the beer,” is Shiro’s initial response.
Shiro looks at the both of them in frozen disbelief and doesn’t seem to remember how to move.
“Keith, you…you and Allura…since when have you two –”
“How long have you been standing there?” Keith asks weakly, cutting Shiro off. Almost timidly, Allura grabs Keith’s arm and doesn’t let go once she pulls him back upright.
“I didn’t see…much,” answers Shiro vaguely, unconsciously raising his arm to scratch the back of his head but remembering the guacamole and swooping down to catch it before it splatters. “So exactly how long has this…are you two…?” He gestures wildly between the two of them with the bowl.
Keith and Allura both flush darkly, neither trying to meet Shiro’s eyes.
“We’re…together,” Allura says slowly, “Is that how humans say it?” She glances at Keith.
“Dating.”
“Right. That.”
“Oh. That’s…great! When did you –”
“Two months ago,” Keith snaps, finally past the embarrassment of being caught and profound annoyance settling in over getting rudely interrupted. “Don’t keep the others waiting for those drinks.”
Shiro chuckles, satisfied with the return of Keith’s usual temperament. He starts his way down the steps toward the beach.
“By the way, is this supposed to be a secret? Who else knows?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.
“No one,” Keith answers at the same time Allura says, “Hunk does.”
“What?” asks Keith incredulously, hearing this information for the first time.
“He thinks he does. He says it’s suspicious that we’ve been spending a lot of time together recently.”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” Keith sighs in resignation. Then he faces Shiro. “Listen, we’re not exactly announcing this to the world, so…”
“I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks, Shiro.”
Shiro flashes an approving smile. “Don’t stay out here too long though. Hunk wasn’t serious when he said you couldn’t come back until sunset.”
They watch him walk toward the campsite where the others, obscured in the fading sun, have started to settle down and gather. When Shiro is far away enough, the two relax and slump back against the table. After a brief moment of awkward silence, Allura breaks into a fit of laughter and Keith groans while trying to repress his own grin.
“I can’t believe he saw us,” Keith laments dramatically.
“Serves you right. You kissed me first,” teases Allura. “Anyone could’ve seen us. Imagine if it’d been Lance.”
“He’d never let us live it down.”
He glances over at her and smirks. Allura quirks an eyebrow at him.
“It was worth it though.”
Allura bites her lip mischievously. “Oh really?”
“Definitely,” he assures her. Before she can react, he leans in and kisses her deeply, wanting more but holding back. They part breathlessly moments later, with Allura’s hand clinging tightly onto his shirt.
“Tastes like lemonade,” he says, and Allura blushes.
“It’s getting dark,” she whispers after a long pause, watching their combined shadow gradually shrink and disappear. “Let’s go.”
Keith nods in agreement, and Allura turns around to get up. When she gazes out to the ocean, Keith impulsively grabs her hand. She looks back at him and squeezes tightly. Her hair looks like starlight and it reminds him of home.
Allura lets go and excitedly runs ahead of him to reunite with the group, clutching tightly onto his jacket as it flies behind her. Keith follows after her, memorizing the way she laughs and calls out to their friends. The shape of her anchors inside his chest his heart, beating incessantly to remind him that it still exists. The cool sea breeze taunts his skin but he doesn’t rush back. He turns toward the ocean, studying a stray cloud as it passes through a field of awakening bright stars. Clarity strikes like a lightning bolt straight through his heart and then suddenly he’s so sure.
I love her.