He prods at the healing skin occasionally, when he thinks no one is looking.
Subtle, careful fingers test the still tender flesh -- It hadn’t bled at all, skin SEARED like a brand from the heat of it. Sometimes, he can’t tell if it hurts, or if his mind just wants him to think it does. As though equating the physical sensation might somehow lessen the strain on his heart. He doesn’t think that’s how it works, but perhaps it makes him feel better to entertain the idea that it might.
He realizes belatedly that there are in fact a pair of eyes locked on him; Keith meets Lance’s gaze across the empty space of the Lion’s pit and blinks. " It doesn’t bother me. “ He blurts without giving the Red Paladin any time to even question it, and realizes belatedly once more that it might be a strange way to approach it -- Keith’s gaze shies away from him, clearly embarrassed. “ Er-- everyone’s been asking about it is all. “
Which is no lie; though all in all, every one has given him a considerably wide berth and avoided harrowing questions. Keith has been riding a knife - edge of tension since his return, wears it in his shoulders and the tightly closed expression. If he’s aware of how he chases the others off, he doesn’t let on.
“ ...You can come in, you don’t have to hang out over there, I’m not gonna bite you. “