[ the fire leaps in place, yellow-white-yellow, stirring up sparks, swaying their shadows to and fro. he breathes, and tastes for a beat the faint acidic sting of rain in his teeth -- a coming storm, as promised, churning ready for some faraway hour.
in the interim, keith only shrugs again, a bare cool movement, nearly unseen. there's no real answer he can make to that -- it isn't, after all, an argument. shiro's right: he doesn't know. but it doesn't matter. trust isn't a switch, on and off and on again. it lives or it doesn't. ]
Should've trained me out of it while you had the chance.
no subject
in the interim, keith only shrugs again, a bare cool movement, nearly unseen. there's no real answer he can make to that -- it isn't, after all, an argument. shiro's right: he doesn't know. but it doesn't matter. trust isn't a switch, on and off and on again. it lives or it doesn't. ]
Should've trained me out of it while you had the chance.