Sheith prompt after Keith finds Shiro (from the first episode of the show)
There should be a difference – in theair, in the shadows of his shack, in the damn electromagnetic field of the entire world – but it’s all self-contained.Shiro’s back. That single thought tumbles around in Keith’s head, disbeliefwarring with overwhelming joy; jarring uncertainty tussling with itchy relief. Thenumbness Keith has grown accustomed to over the last year, the quiet lull ofhis heart and the scratchy hum of his breathing, has been overtaken by static.His skin tingles, as though tiny pins and needles poke at him restlessly. Herubs his palms over his thighs, freezing when Shiro shifts on the couch.Everything returns to stillness. Keith licks his lips.
He scoots forward, enough that his kneesdisappear under the couch and his stomach nearly touches the thin cushions. Shiro’s face remains blank, quiet in a drug induced sleep, and Keithdrinks his fill. The scar is new. Hair too. The skin and the muscles and thelines around Shiro’s mouth; the darkness bubbling beneath his eyes and theslight broken jaggedness of Shiro’s nose. All minute differences. Underneath,it’s still Shiro. Keith clenches his fingers around his knees, sucks in a quickbreath and holds it. He dares not blink. Shiro exhales and Keith follows.
He mimics the rhythm of Shiro’sbreathing, drops his chin to the couch to continue his vigil. Somewhere behindhim, the trio that had intercepted the rescue mission sleep. In front of him isall that matters. Shiro’s lashes swoop low over his cheekbones. The pinprickingsensation increases.
When the first edges of pink begin tolighten the world, Shiro stirs. Keith straightens, his entire body tingling,his throat scratchy, his eyes dry. He hadn’t blinked. Shiro groans, gazedarting up to Keith’s face, and for a single moment there is no recognition.Keith stills. Shiro squeezes his eyes closed before opening them once more,gaze sticking on Keith’s. His smile kicks Keith’s heart into high gear.
“Hey, Keith,” Shiro says hoarsely,quietly, adoringly.
Send me a ship and I will write you a smol
