[ the couch is cumbersome, not necessarily because it’s heavy, but due to its shape. though, with it being the smaller of the two couches and already facing the correct way, it’s no large feat to get it moving. first, a pull to get the coffee table out of the way and second, shiro rounds the blue and white couch to push at its backing. of course, this is when a whisper breaks the brief lapse in conversation.
… i’ll do better.
shiro pauses, breath catching for a hold again as he listens to those self-damning words. that, added with the image of keith there by the fire, draped in a blanket that makes him look smaller and more fragile, despite most of his body being hidden, well… – shiro blows out a breath that sounds heavier than it's felt. the next batch of sound is the legs of the couch dragging against the hardwood floor as shiro scoots it the few feet closer to the fireplace. satisfied with its placement, shiro slowly rounds the couch to the front, coming in line with keith there by the fire. he doesn’t sigh again, but there’s a soft breathiness to his voice, once more sounded exhausted. ]
I’ve never thought of you as a burden.
[ a part of him is disappointed in keith for suggesting it, but as always, shiro is quick to shift the disappointment toward himself. has he been too tough on keith, to make him think he isn’t good enough? that he’s a failure? he doesn’t crouch beside him again. he does, however, come to stand close to him, bending down just enough to brave touching his head. it’s still not a hair ruffle; it’s little more than the weight of his palm over the crown of keith’s head in what is meant to be a comforting hold. ]
Because you’re not one. You never will be one.
[ he holds the position for one, two beats after those words quiet, wanting them to not only sink in, but also be accepted as truth. with the time spent, he then lifts his hand and straightens up. ]
Now come on, up you go. [ he gestures to the couch, stepping back as he does so to give keith plenty of room. ] Here’s your front row seat to the fire… pretty nice, huh?
i just don't know how juniper and jupiter are going to fit on there
… i’ll do better.
shiro pauses, breath catching for a hold again as he listens to those self-damning words. that, added with the image of keith there by the fire, draped in a blanket that makes him look smaller and more fragile, despite most of his body being hidden, well… – shiro blows out a breath that sounds heavier than it's felt. the next batch of sound is the legs of the couch dragging against the hardwood floor as shiro scoots it the few feet closer to the fireplace. satisfied with its placement, shiro slowly rounds the couch to the front, coming in line with keith there by the fire. he doesn’t sigh again, but there’s a soft breathiness to his voice, once more sounded exhausted. ]
I’ve never thought of you as a burden.
[ a part of him is disappointed in keith for suggesting it, but as always, shiro is quick to shift the disappointment toward himself. has he been too tough on keith, to make him think he isn’t good enough? that he’s a failure? he doesn’t crouch beside him again. he does, however, come to stand close to him, bending down just enough to brave touching his head. it’s still not a hair ruffle; it’s little more than the weight of his palm over the crown of keith’s head in what is meant to be a comforting hold. ]
Because you’re not one. You never will be one.
[ he holds the position for one, two beats after those words quiet, wanting them to not only sink in, but also be accepted as truth. with the time spent, he then lifts his hand and straightens up. ]
Now come on, up you go. [ he gestures to the couch, stepping back as he does so to give keith plenty of room. ] Here’s your front row seat to the fire… pretty nice, huh?