[ the arm looping around his back shouldn’t make keith flinch, but it does in a way that defies logic. see, keith knows that shiro doesn’t mean him harm, but the tense up is entirely involuntary. taking a deep breath as if to reassure himself that he still can helps marginally in relaxing again, but it intensifies a surge in self loathing. why doesn’t he have the control necessary to act in precisely the way he wants to? caught between disappointment and anger, keith allows himself to be pulled away from the front of the warehouse, but resistance comes a beat later when it becomes apparent shiro might physically haul him away from the objective.

not that adi would approve of said objective, but keith can only assume they won’t actualy give a shit if a problem conveniently disappears. he struggles, weakly to duck out from under shiro’s arm to turn and look back at the entrance to the warehouse. thick plumes of white fumigation smoke billow from the entrance, and briefly keith’s stomach lurches thinking of fire. he turns his face away quickly, turning back to shiro. ]

I have to end it. I need to make sure. I need to know that it’s finally fucking over so I don’t have to do this anymore...

[ the words are a rambling mess, urgent but growing quieter and quieter. ]

So I don’t have to be...

[ ... scared. keith grits his teeth, keeping that last word trapped. he won’t -- can’t, refuses -- to give anyone, let alone a pathetic avatar, that kind of power over him. he’s not scared. he isn’t scared of anything. because everything is fine.

everything. is. fine.

reaching up to rip off his fumigation mask, keith takes another deep breath and leans heavier against shiro for support. ]

Why are you even talking to me? I thought you were avoiding me now.