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Today was a shitty Day. A really shitty Day.
Keith had practically sabotaged the entire mission by storming off and attempting to do it all on his own, and of course, that ended up failing miserably. And to Make Matters worse, he had lashed out on the rest of paladins, including Shiro.
I mean, Shiro out of all people? Shiro had been there for Keith since he was young and filled the empty void that his parents had left in him, and keith trusted him, leaned on him, atleast figuratively. And for that, Keith saw Shiro as some kind of older brother- father figure?
Looking back on the whole situation from today, Keith had admittedly acted pretty recklessly, if not immaturely. And oh god, Keith loathed himself for constantly self-sabotaging himself like this. For driving people away on purpose like this. It was a pattern all too familiar.
He knew this was his most prominent flaw, and to admit, he was deeply embarrased about it.
Right now, Keith was at the training deck, but of course he was. Keith made the training deck his escape. Whenever something was on his mind he would just simply isolate himself, and train hours on end. He would even skip shared meals with the rest , avoid hallways someone might be in and take the longer, more exhausting route.
When this first started, the paladins tried talking to him, but it was no use. It would always end up in keith pushing everyone away even more. Though, these little "episodes" ; as the rest would call them lasted only a few days. By then he'd be calmed down.
It seemed like this day was start of one.
"Keith, buddy?" Keith flinches, startled by Hunks voice. Keith turns to face Hunk, squinting at the figure until the fuzzy edges of his sight finally go away.
" Did you want dinner?" Hunk asks, in a tone Keith could only read as cautious, as if he was scared that Keith would snap at him any second.
Keith stares, frozen. Keith did feel quite fatigued from the lack of dinner and what seemed like endless training. Keith bit his lip, carving away at the flesh.
"No,, thanks though" Keith offers a weak smile. He couldn't dare bring himself to face the others ,especially Shiro.
Hunk nods, turns, and just leaves.
Keith was now in his bathroom, towel in-hand as he agressively dried his hair with it. Once finished, he lazily tossed the towel onto the sink counter. His Gaze had caught his own relfection during the action.
Keith frowned at the foggy silhuette staring back at him. His shoulders hung low, as if his posture was slumped . He was dressed in a loose ,grey T-shirt that was atleast three sizes too large and a pair of basic, black shorts. It was nothing special, he was just getting dressed to go to bed, anyway.
Keith was just about to leave when he spot something reflecting the dimly-lit bathroom light. He carefully picked the metal object from the cluttered countertop. It was suprisingly cold to the touch.
He held the pair of scissors in his hand as if it was this-.. fragile prised possession. It was the same pair of scissors he used to trim his hair every now-and-then. He would rather cut his own hair than ask for help. That's how his iconic, choppy mullet-hairstyle was born.
He held the item up to the light, as if to inspect the blade. It was pretty sharp- for a pair of hair trimmers, anyway.
Suddenly, an unpleasant idea popped up in his mind. Keith almost flinched at his own instinct, as if he were taken aback. No, he wouldn't.
....or would he?
....
..
Keith extended the blades , held one of them up to his fingertip and-
Sliced.
Keith's breath hitched. He could practically feel the adrenaline rush through his body. He stared at the freshly cut wound as tiny pearls of blood beaded at his fingertip. Keith winced. He didn't like the fact that he didn't hate the feeling it brought him.
He brought his hand- Which was noticeably much more shakier than before up to his wrist. His skin buzzed with anticipation.
He shouldn't be doing this, right? He's... Not like depressed, or anything. Did Keith even have a valid reason for this?
Keith swallowed, and shut his eyes.
He glided the blade of the scissors through his skin, and was immediately met with a feeling of-...relief? Keith opened his eyes to the ugly new marking he had created. He stared at it before once more- taking the blade to his skin. His arm felt like it was on fire, but the worst part about it all was that keith didn't care at all. He loved the pain, in a way. It was like a breath of fresh air after being deprived of it for so long.
The more he inspected the scars, the more disappointed he grew. These barely scratched the surface of his skin. Keith could do better than this. He could go deeper.
Keith clenched the scissors harder and pressed it into his skin, as if to permanently carve a hole into his arm. He glided the blade across his arm and watched his skin rip itself open. He continued slicing, untill he could not handle it anymore.
Keith yelped in pain, tears welling in his eyes. He let out a strained hiss and slumped against the tiled wall of the bathoom to the point he was sitting on the floor with an unholy posture.
He looks down to be met with the horrifying sight that was his arm. There was so many bumps and ridges that he could lose count. And so, so much blood.
Keith chokes out a sob. What had he done? Oh god, what the hell had he done? He had grabbed the nearest towel to him in his panic as an attempt to stop the blood.
Keith wakes up to his back in so much pain, it might as well be broken. Keith lifted the stained towel to reveal his bloodied, scarred arm. He stared at it in a horrified grimace as the foggy memories of last night started to flood his mind.
Keith groaned as he got up . Turns out sleeping on tiled flooring isn't ideal. Upon standing up he realised just how fatigued he was. Ok, ok. He needed food. Fast. He quickly rinsed off the crusted blood from his wrist and made his way for for the castle's kitchen. Judging by the dimly-lit corridors, it was still sleeptime. No one would be bothering him this early.
Keith took out a portion of leftover food-goo from last night and sat down. It was about time he fed himself. He had been avoiding everyone for so long that in the process he had also forgotten to eat.
Lance emerged from his dormitory in search of a drink of water. -Or actually, that was just his excuse. Sometimes when lance couldn't sleep he would just aimlessly wander around in the castle, you know....as one does.
Lance strolled through the dark hallways until, to his suprise, spotted the castle's kitchen, which based on the light crawling out the doorway, someone was in. He picked up pace.
To his suprise, it was not Hunk or Pidge. Instead, it was Keith. Lance watched the red paladin sat at the counter spoon the food-goo into his mouth with tired, slow motions.
"Heyyy, mullet" Lance called out, finally inviting himself in instead of lingering by the doorway.
Keith flinches and looks up to see Lance. The guilt from fucking up the last mission immediately washed over him. Keith swallowed painfully.
"Er..hi" keith finally responds. His voice was fairly raspy, as if he had just finished crying.
The air was thick , suffocating.
Lance stepped closer. "What happened yesterday? I mean you kinda freaked...out...-" He began to trail off. Lances face immediately dropped. As if he was horrified at what he was looking at.
Keith, confused, looked down.
Ohmygod
Oh my fucking god.
Keith dropped his utensil and brought his other arm to hide his wrist. But it was already too late.
"Keith, what the hell?" Lance yelled out, tugging at Keith's sleeve and forcefully pulling his arm closer.
"Stop- no no no, you weren't supposed to see that" Keith panicked.
Lance inspected the fleshy new wounds that covered Keith's arm with that same horrified look. Lance finally let go of the arm and brought his hands over his mouth. Keith looked up to see tears forming in lances eyes. He was crying. Keith's heart shattered.
Oh god, Keith had made Lance cry. He never wanted to make Lance cry. What the ironic thing was, Lance was so beautiful and perfect even when he cried.
"Why.. why would you do that?" Lance choked.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry.." Keith cried.
Lance quite literally climbed over the counter just to get to Keith. When he did, he extended his arms for into a big embrace. Keith let out a soft gasp at the touch.
"Keith, it's not your fault." Lance cooed, despite being shocked himself.
Keith sniffles and hides into the crook of his neck. This was so embarrassing.
"It's not your fault..." Lance repeats, almost as if he was reassuring himself instead of keith.