Hello! This story is Keith-centric, and is wrote in present tense, something I've been trying and like very much. Remember, constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

He hears it as he walks. The reverberation of voices coming from the lounge. They vary in sound, though most are loud and higher pitched. Curiously, he walks towards it, because every leader should know what his teammates do late at night.

Right?

Right.

As he gets closer, he starts to hear vowels and consonants, which then form into words.

"-and it just makes me so angry, you know?" Lance.

"Hm, well, I suppose all of us were disappointed that we weren't elected leader." Pidge.

"Eh, I dunno, I was okay with it, I guess. What about you?" Hunk.

By process of elimination, and the fact Coran never actively sought out the team for late night talks, the other person had to be-

"Well, it does not matter now. The Black Lion has chosen, and we must abide by it's decision."

-Allura.

Ignoring the fact that if the team had wanted him to be a part of the discussion, they would have asked, he gets closer, and settles near the door.

Lance makes a sound that has a likeness to a growl and a groan. "I know," he mutters, and Keith thinks the tone resembles a child being scolded by their mom, "but it doesn't make it any less easier to understand… or agree with."

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Yeah, I know how you feel." Pidge breaks the silence. "But maybe not as strongly as you."

Allura, slowly, but surely, nods.

"Yes, I do understand, Lance, but we all will have to deal with it, and the sooner the better for the sake of the team."

From his vantage point from the door, Keith can see the expressions flitting across the Princess's face: sadness, disappointment, a facade to try and be a strong figurehead, and then the whole thing repeats.

For the first time in awhile, Hunk speaks up. "Just vent it out."

At the looks he's given, he wilts. "Um, well, whenever I was a little and was angry, my mom told me to "just vent it out". And, um, it worked. Really well. So, yeah," he awkwardly finishes.

Lance brightens up. "Thanks, man. Nothing makes me feel better than making fun of Keith!"

"Lance," Pidge reprimands.

"Hey, you've done it too! Remember when you were stuck in that junkyard with a bunch of those furry things and you made that model of him-"

Pidge slaps a hand over his mouth. "I told you that in private with explicit instructions not to tell anyone-" By now, everyone is laughing.

Keith tries to ignore the way his body folds in on himself, and the fact no one even tried to defend him.

"Okay." Lance takes a deep breath. "For one, I think his mullet is ridiculous."

Pidge snorts. "As if your hair is any better."

At this, Lance fakes a hurt expression. "Pidge, my hair is the embodiment of perfection itself. In fact, I've had many a lady swoon over it-"

"Okay, okay, we get it."

"Fine," he pouts. "Hm, what else, what else… oh yeah! He thinks he's so perfect. Always being the best at everything, and acting like it's nothing!"

"Well," Hunk offers, "he does train a lot… like everyday. For several hours. At a time. No breaks."

"Exactly my point! Always training, like he has to prove something. Like he

has to shove it in our face that he's so much better at everything."

Allura laughs. "Lance, it sounds like you are jealous."

"Never," he gasps.

Pidge decides to intervene before he can rant some more. "Well, I guess I'll

contribute something, too. He can be really aloof, and sometimes it comes off really rude, and he doesn't get any jokes, or analogies, or anything! It can be pretty frustrating," she confesses.

Hunk's eyes sparked in recognition. "Oh yeah, remember that party? 'I say Vol-, you say -tron, Vol…?

"-tron!" Lance yells back, shaking in laughter. "He was so confused. He was like, "Voltron? But it makes no sense!"

Everyone dissolved into fits of giggles.

Keith decides he's had enough. He quickly leaves his hiding spot, and a small whoosh of air is the only thing that signals his leave.

Back in the lounge, a head lifts up, seeing the door move ever so slightly.

Keith swiftly walks away. He doesn't know where his feet are taking him, only that he has to get away, away from that, get away from everything.

He finds himself at Shiro's door. He hesitates, then pushes it open, almost scared of what's inside.

Everything is the same; tidy bookshelves, a clean desk, and freshly made bed. It's so… Shiro. That's all the confirmation he needs.

Keith rushes in, snatching a pillow. He sits on the floor, back against the bed.

As he buries his head in the pillow, he realizes it smells like Shiro.

He begins to sob.

A/N

Not gonna lie, I teared up a bit writing that last part. PM if you think a second chapter would nice (if you didn't catch it, I snuck in a little sentence that would work well for a continuation) and if so, who you'd like to be the one to talk to him. Reviews are always appreciated!