Whispers in the Dark
an offering for @the-littlest-bom
“You really,” Keith grunted, clinging to the wooden frame, “you really shouldn’t leave this unlocked.”
Shiro was still in bed, despite hearing the commotion, the most he’d done is rolled over. He stayed silent as a red sneaker poked into his room, going around for something to anchor to. A few seconds later the rest of his best friends’s body followed and rolled onto the floor.
“Hi,” the younger boy whispered, sliding the window back closed before approaching. Shiro only grunted. He really didn’t want to talk. Not today… he glanced at the clock, still five minutes until the day actually began.
When his friend shifted closer, he scooted back, making room. “I don’t…I’m not…” but he didn’t know how to explain. How do you tell someone that hey, I'm not really in the mood to be a person because it’s my dead brother’s birthday and I don’t think I can handle it.
Keith understood anyway. “I know,” he smiled sadly. Of course he did, he’d lost family to. How could Shiro forget so easily. “And I want you to know you're not alone so…” The blankets Shiro had firmly tucked around himself, loosened with a couple soft tugs and a smaller body slid in next to him, tucking in close.
He wasn’t going to cry. He refused. But then warm fingers, grabbed onto his and a few tears slipped out. “I… I… I miss him.”
The fingers held tighter and Keith was suddenly closer, his face inches from Shiro’s. The arm that had been curled under his dark hair, sliding out and pulling Shiro close or maybe pulling himself closer. “I know.”