[ that startles a laugh from shiro, quiet enough that it's barely audible over the whispering fire. the state of keith's hair - making him look less like the freedom fighter circumstance has wrought, and more like the teenager that he is - is only half of it.
keith's hair, just as stubborn as keith himself.
he's fortunate, he thinks, though all the ugliest parts of him rail at the thought. with what he's done for the preservation of his own life, for that of his species. but that's not a conversation that belongs here, with the strange wet ozone burning his lungs, with someone who trusts him sitting vulnerable just a moment away. ]
What, you can dish it but you can't take it?
[ keith makes an endearing picture. embarrassed but unafraid. shiro doesn't have to voice that thought: he knows it shows in his face. ]
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keith's hair, just as stubborn as keith himself.
he's fortunate, he thinks, though all the ugliest parts of him rail at the thought. with what he's done for the preservation of his own life, for that of his species. but that's not a conversation that belongs here, with the strange wet ozone burning his lungs, with someone who trusts him sitting vulnerable just a moment away. ]
What, you can dish it but you can't take it?
[ keith makes an endearing picture. embarrassed but unafraid. shiro doesn't have to voice that thought: he knows it shows in his face. ]