[ shit. that took a left turn. wait, no, more than that -- a left turn to go barreling straight off a cliff. never going to move past this? fuck.
the pain radiating off of keith is almost palpable. shiro can just about convince himself that he can feel it in the suffocating nature of the room. heck, he can hear it in his voice, see it in that broken hunch -- what shakes the swirling undercurrent of his dismal thoughts is seeing that they’re dragging keith down with him. always hurting him. always causing him pain. somewhere along the way from galaxy garrison to here, shiro stopped being keith’s rock and in turn became his anchor, one destined to pull him down so deep that he drowns with all of shiro’s burdens.
he doesn’t want that. he can’t have that. he refuses to do that to keith. so here he… tries. it takes a swallow and a steadying breath, but he brings himself back enough to formulate a quiet: ]
I don’t know why I keep doing this.
[ admitting it aloud has anxiety spiking and he glances to the door on instinct. his feet stay rooted though and he makes no indication of wanting to move beyond the glance. soon enough, he swallows and shakes his head, looking to keith and then right back to the floor. ]
I’m not… -- I don’t want to go. I want to be with you.
[ here, in their -- home? he’s hesitant to name it that. he keeps thinking this is temporary but now there’s a closet full of clothes, taken hiding spots and a cat. they’re building something here. ]
But I start thinking about what’s happened and what could happen and... [ he curls his fingers into his biceps and hugs himself tighter, knowing that he isn’t explaining any of this with any real justice. he has faith that keith will get it though -- he has a knack for understanding shiro when shiro doesn't even fully understand himself. this time, is it shame that keeps his gaze lowered? no. stubbornness? not that either. actually, it’s a slip in attention and a running of curiosity, because there’s something keith said before. i would prefer that it happened with you. it makes sense considering the world and keith's general disdain for strangers. but… it touches deeper inside him and the whole of him brims with the half-delirious idea of a them. brief, temporary, whatever.
… is that -- good? for them? for what shiro has decided their friendship to be? he doesn’t know and he can’t know, not right now, not when his head is already a mess. so he never quite manages an answer for himself and then he slips in concentration again, instead rounding back to how he needs to give keith something more than indecision and false leads. he thinks maybe he’s pressing his luck. keith doesn’t do patience. he tries when it comes to shiro -- which shiro is both grateful and proud of him for -- however, shiro knows that if he continues to give keith nothing in return, that steady presence will inevitably disappear.
in the end, it’s all for naught. he can’t put words to how he's just as lost to what his own end game is. ]
whack him hard keet
the pain radiating off of keith is almost palpable. shiro can just about convince himself that he can feel it in the suffocating nature of the room. heck, he can hear it in his voice, see it in that broken hunch -- what shakes the swirling undercurrent of his dismal thoughts is seeing that they’re dragging keith down with him. always hurting him. always causing him pain. somewhere along the way from galaxy garrison to here, shiro stopped being keith’s rock and in turn became his anchor, one destined to pull him down so deep that he drowns with all of shiro’s burdens.
he doesn’t want that. he can’t have that. he refuses to do that to keith. so here he… tries. it takes a swallow and a steadying breath, but he brings himself back enough to formulate a quiet: ]
I don’t know why I keep doing this.
[ admitting it aloud has anxiety spiking and he glances to the door on instinct. his feet stay rooted though and he makes no indication of wanting to move beyond the glance. soon enough, he swallows and shakes his head, looking to keith and then right back to the floor. ]
I’m not… -- I don’t want to go. I want to be with you.
[ here, in their -- home? he’s hesitant to name it that. he keeps thinking this is temporary but now there’s a closet full of clothes, taken hiding spots and a cat. they’re building something here. ]
But I start thinking about what’s happened and what could happen and... [ he curls his fingers into his biceps and hugs himself tighter, knowing that he isn’t explaining any of this with any real justice. he has faith that keith will get it though -- he has a knack for understanding shiro when shiro doesn't even fully understand himself. this time, is it shame that keeps his gaze lowered? no. stubbornness? not that either. actually, it’s a slip in attention and a running of curiosity, because there’s something keith said before. i would prefer that it happened with you. it makes sense considering the world and keith's general disdain for strangers. but… it touches deeper inside him and the whole of him brims with the half-delirious idea of a them. brief, temporary, whatever.
… is that -- good? for them? for what shiro has decided their friendship to be? he doesn’t know and he can’t know, not right now, not when his head is already a mess. so he never quite manages an answer for himself and then he slips in concentration again, instead rounding back to how he needs to give keith something more than indecision and false leads. he thinks maybe he’s pressing his luck. keith doesn’t do patience. he tries when it comes to shiro -- which shiro is both grateful and proud of him for -- however, shiro knows that if he continues to give keith nothing in return, that steady presence will inevitably disappear.
in the end, it’s all for naught. he can’t put words to how he's just as lost to what his own end game is. ]
I don’t know what I’m doing.
[ he reiterates and looks up, peeking at keith. ]