https://www.instagram.com/p/BqIlABVA14Q/?utm_source=ig_share
_sheet&igshid=1uqswjev47n11

Keith

California had been hot. Hawaii had been humid. But the warm, heavy air that slid around me like a blanket as I stepped from the ramp out into the airport felt like heaven. I breathed a sigh of relief- finally, we were here. Stop number 4. Lance, walking slowly in front of me, stretched his arms out above him, rolling his head to stretch out his neck after spending so long slouched in his seat.

Turning around to me, he grinned. "Welcome to Samoa! Your island paradise that will fulfill your dreams."

I slowly looked around the airport, taking everything in. It was nighttime out, but that didn't seem to lower the temperature in the air too significantly. Above us, on the ceiling, were large, open windows, displaying the night sky and speckled starlight. The airport was small compared to the ones in Honolulu and San Jose, but many tourists and locals still milled around, talking loudly as they wheeled their suitcases behind them.

Large, curved palm trees bent down towards us from their giant terra cotta pots, the fronts blowing slightly in the light breeze that floated down from the windows above. The tropical ukulele and steel drum music that played over the speakers in the airport created a comforting environment.

Lance, who seemed to know exactly where we were going, led me through the airport with an excited smile on his face. "Where are we going?" I asked jokingly.

I hadn't expected him to answer, but he turned around and gave me a sunny smile as he replied, "To Hunk's!"

Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me forward, marching happily to the front doors of the airport.

...

"Lance!"

I stood back, looking on as Lance and a young man reunited in front of a small, squat house. The man, probably in his mid-twenties grinned as he gave the angel a bear-hug, spinning him around happily. The house we stood before was where Lance had told me we would be staying in, but I hadn't expected it to have other patrons as well.

"It's good to see you, Hunk," I heard Lance's muffled chuckle.

Stepping back, Hunk held Lance as arms-length, scouring his face with large, chocolate eyes. I carefully took in the man's features- floppy, dark hair, broad shoulders, square jaw, and heavily muscled. It looked like he could snap me in half with his bare hands like a toothpick if he wanted to, but his beaming smile made that hard to imagine.

"It's been too long," Hunk agreed, nodding. He turned to look at me and his eyebrows shot upwards.

"Hello," I said lamely, "I'm Keith."

"A friend of mine," Lance interjected, and I noticed how he stressed the word 'friend', making pointed eye contact with Hunk. The young Samoan only hesitated a second before pulling me into a hug as well.

Hunk was warm and he smelled like coconuts and coffee beans, but the feeling wasn't uncomfortable. I realized that, while Lance's hugs were soft, sweet, his thin arms around my shoulders, his face pressed to my neck, Hunk's hug made me feel small and childish. It was the kind of hug I imagine I would want my father to give me. Stepping back, Hunk grinned at me.

"Any friend of Lance's is a friend of mine. It's nice to meet you, bro."

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied softly, looking down at my shoes.

Lance spoke up. "Thank you for letting us stay here, bud- it means a lot to me to not have to stay in another hotel."

Hunk nodded enthusiastically, "Of course! I don't blame you." He opened the door for us, letting us into his small home. "Oh! You must be tired!" He hit his forehead with his palm, rolling his eyes at himself, "Jet lag and all that jazz."

I looked around the house in vague wonder, letting my eyes fall over the sink, the oven and stove-top, counter space, fridge, and so on. A wooden table stood behind the kitchen with four chairs pushed beneath it. The wall was covered in large tiles, all different shades of burnt orange and brown.

It was sweet and felt comfortable like a home should, and I, too, was grateful that we weren't staying in another hotel. Lance looked at his phone and nodded, "Yeah, it's getting late, and I'm sure we both could use the sleep." His eyes found mine.

As if on command, I suddenly felt exhaustion wash over me. Blinking slowly, I nodded, hefting my small bag over my shoulder.

"Great," Hunk said, "I'll show you to your room."

It turned out that Lance and I would be sharing the guest room, which had a bed and a blow-up mattress already set up for us. Lance insisted that he take the floor, since I had the previous night, but it took me a while to relent. I wasn't the one who'd been knocked out, so I felt like I should take the floor to make sure he rested well, but he, being the stubborn angel that he was, refused.

We got ready for bed in comfortable silence, Lance using a bit of his Energy to magic up some pajamas for the two of us. I tried to avert my eyes in time, but I ended up catching a glimpse of the smooth curve of Lance's back as he stepped out of his romper, the freckles on his shoulders. Chiding myself, I changed in the bathroom.

...

I had to say, the bed was comfortable. So comfortable that, at first, I didn't wake up to the sound of Lance crying out in his sleep. But with a jolt, I sat up, looking down at the floor beside the bed. In the dim moonlight coming in through the window, I saw him writhe beneath the sheets, his face screwed up in agony.

Reaching down, I touched his shoulder, shaking him slightly, trying to wake him up. "Lance!" I whispered urgently. Suddenly, his eyes sprung open, and he sat up so fast I had to lean back avoid slamming our foreheads.

Gasping for breath, Lance scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to brush the dream away like cobwebs. My eyes found his shape and his halo, which glowed slightly as it wobbled around his head.

"Lance?" I asked, voice groggy. "Are you okay?"

Lance tried to slow his breathing. He didn't reply. I heard his heartbeat in my head, it's rapid pounding like a drum. I knew he wasn't okay.

"C'mere," I muttered, laying back down. I didn't know what I was offering. Blindly, he stood on wobbly legs, feeling his mattress, the pillow, his hand brushing against my bare back. I wished I had worn a shirt to bed.

I held up the covers for him, and he slipped beneath them, next to me. I laid on my side, facing away from him, trying to take up the least amount of space possible.

We didn't say anything, but I could feel his tension. "Nightmare?" I asked.

"Yeah." I heard him sigh.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Is this okay?" I bit my lip, wondering if he knew that I was referring to the bed.

He paused.

"Yeah."

I listened to his heartbeat until it slowed to a reasonable rhythm. But, before it slowed enough to assure me that he was asleep, I felt his cold palm on my shoulder. I shivered.

"Keith?" he whispered so quietly I wondered if I'd imagined it. I focused on the feel of his fingertips on my shoulder.

"Yeah?"

He didn't say anything, so I turned, rolling over to my other side. Lance was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. I felt his warmth radiating off of his skin. He turned his head towards me, and his glowing halo turned his blue eyes bright, illuminating the flecks of color in his irises.

"I'm glad it was me," he said quietly, eyes locked onto mine. I was only vaguely aware of what was happening, but I was shocked into reality when I felt Lance's lips on my forehead. Frozen, I looked straight ahead, eyes tracing over the stretch in his neck as he leaned above me. I felt his chin press against the bridge of my nose and I let out the smallest of sighs, letting my eyes flutter closed.

His lips left my forehead and I felt the waxiness of the residue that his chapstick left on my skin. Withdrawing slowly, Lance watched me carefully, gauging my reaction. I regarded him carefully, and, to my surprise, I felt my cheeks begin to heat up a bit.

"What is this?" I whispered before I could stop myself.

"I don't know," Lance replied, his blue eyes holding mine.

"What's happening?" I pressed. I'd never felt this before. My stomach, in knots, squirmed as I tried to comprehend my feelings.

Lance smiled at me softly, pressing the pad of his thumb to where he'd kissed and rubbing away his chapstick. "I don't think you'll believe me if I tell you," Lance answered, his eyelids drooping tiredly. I didn't want him to fall asleep.

"Try me," I urged. But Lance's lids had closed, and his heartbeat had slowed. Biting my lip, I turned back onto my side, trying to block out the thoughts that now streamed into my mind.

Lance, the angel, who'd kissed my forehead. Me, a lowly, dark, hateful devil. Me.

"I'm glad it was me."

What did that mean? What was that supposed to tell me?

I felt myself becoming quickly overworked, so I tried to still my breathing, trying to stay calm. Fidgeting, I slowly inched backward, not stopping until I felt Lance's shoulder against my back. His presence was comforting. After what seemed like hours, I was able to fall asleep.

...

ahhhhhhahhahahah <33 do you like?

happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate!! I'm so so so thankful for everything you guys have done for me- i couldn't ask for better readers and friends than you, so thank you :) special thanks to my readers who have been with me since beat drop and/or swim with me?. your continuous support makes my heart so happy and I owe it all to you guys to have the inspiration and determination to keep writing. I love all of you<3

anyways, for those of you who don't celebrate, I hope you have a wonderful day as well :)

qotd: its snowing here!! do you like the snow? or winter in general? what's your favorite thing to do?

iiiii loooove yoooouuu