[ ten minutes. alright. if asked, shiro wouldn’t trust himself to estimate how long it’s been since he first imagined adam but whether he has one minute left or the full ten, he thinks he can manage. especially with keith so kindly offering to physically restrain him from making a fool of himself. eyes still closed and face still tipped toward the ground, it might be difficult for keith to see from the angle, but he’s smiling, his amusement subtle, yet genuine. ]
I can always count on you.
[ said lightly, but fully believed, shiro holds onto the sentiment and reminds himself that it’s just a few minutes. barely anything at all. his thoughts won’t quiet, however. even in knowing it’s a trick, there’s an itch at his nape and a buzzing in his head, both whittling at his restraint and driving him a little mad on the desire to open his eyes, look up and find the familiar face in the crowd. not there. is it strange that shiro is comforted to know it’s all a figment of his imagination? being under some sort of spell? curse? glossing over that at the moment, but just knowing that it’s a play on his perceptions and adam isn’t actually turning away from him and refusing to talk to him…? yes, there’s comfort in that.
because shiro knows what he looks like now. stress whitened hair, a scarred face, a bulky build of a brute and a metal hand that his long sleeve doesn’t fully cover -- he’s changed, and not for the better. he thought about that a few times. of how people back on earth would react to seeing him again. the garrison treated him like a threat. he wonders if adam would’ve seen him much the same.
his thoughts keep rounding right back to adam and the more he dwells on him, the more he feels inclined to stand. his feet kick against the ground again and he huffs, abruptly reaching to the side to grasp at the only thing tethering him to reality: keith. he snags the sleeve of that hideous jacket adi unfortunately managed to rid of kelpie blood, but blind in his grabbing, his fingers catch on the tear there. ridiculously, the simplicity of his surprise quiets the urge to find adam and he forgets about him almost entirely. he flutters his eyes open and tilts his face just barely, to eye the press of his index and middle fingers in the tear, now curling along the inside of his cuff.
he frowns, both curious and concerned. he doesn’t remember there being a slice from the kelpies. so… ]
I COULD BE. but you're right, i'm not.
I can always count on you.
[ said lightly, but fully believed, shiro holds onto the sentiment and reminds himself that it’s just a few minutes. barely anything at all. his thoughts won’t quiet, however. even in knowing it’s a trick, there’s an itch at his nape and a buzzing in his head, both whittling at his restraint and driving him a little mad on the desire to open his eyes, look up and find the familiar face in the crowd. not there. is it strange that shiro is comforted to know it’s all a figment of his imagination? being under some sort of spell? curse? glossing over that at the moment, but just knowing that it’s a play on his perceptions and adam isn’t actually turning away from him and refusing to talk to him…? yes, there’s comfort in that.
because shiro knows what he looks like now. stress whitened hair, a scarred face, a bulky build of a brute and a metal hand that his long sleeve doesn’t fully cover -- he’s changed, and not for the better. he thought about that a few times. of how people back on earth would react to seeing him again. the garrison treated him like a threat. he wonders if adam would’ve seen him much the same.
his thoughts keep rounding right back to adam and the more he dwells on him, the more he feels inclined to stand. his feet kick against the ground again and he huffs, abruptly reaching to the side to grasp at the only thing tethering him to reality: keith. he snags the sleeve of that hideous jacket adi unfortunately managed to rid of kelpie blood, but blind in his grabbing, his fingers catch on the tear there. ridiculously, the simplicity of his surprise quiets the urge to find adam and he forgets about him almost entirely. he flutters his eyes open and tilts his face just barely, to eye the press of his index and middle fingers in the tear, now curling along the inside of his cuff.
he frowns, both curious and concerned. he doesn’t remember there being a slice from the kelpies. so… ]
What happened here?