[ to shiro’s credit, he doesn’t look away. he wants to; the moment the question is finished and out, something inside him shrinks back and the rest of his body wants to follow suit. he hates this feeling of being cornered. there’s care in keith’s voice, as well as his eyes, so shiro doesn’t bristle or shut down as he so often does whenever his well-being is overanalyzed. besides, it’s the logical question to ask when shiro’s been circling around the elephant in the room, hinting but never divulging any solid details about his mental state.

expression knotting up, light and fleeting, with a frown that doesn’t stick, shiro drapes his arm over keith again and holds him comfortably, by the end of his movements, an exhausted little smile fixing to his mouth. ]

I know.

[ it’s sweet in delivery but it tastes bitter. tastes like a lie. ]

I’m okay, Keith. I didn’t mean to insinuate that I’m not.

[ he’s doing well. he’s working through his sheet and checking in with the others from time to time, to ensure they’re navigating prison life well enough. he’s functioning. he’s managing. he’s fine. he sucks in a breath and holds it a second, then two, longer than his usual steady flow, considering his words. keep the reassurances going or shed a touch of honesty?

helps to know you want me in.

he breathes out, thumb high and brushing at the back of keith’s tank, right where it scoops low and borders skin. ]

I guess, it’s just I kind of miss it. The team. The purpose. The being something more than inmate AA0021.

[ sounds sick, doesn’t it? to miss voltron when having voltron means war. ]