It’s Shiro’s birthday so I wanted to write something short and nice for him as my writing warm-up today and this happened instead. Well, it’s definitely birthday-themed at least.
Have I ever told you about my headcanon that Galra naturally have longer lifespans than humans? Happy Birthday, Shiro.
Keith sits on the edge of the bed, eyes cast downwards, mouth drawn up into a straight, tight line. His hands are resting at the drop-off of the sheets on either side of him, fingers curled in towards the mattress, gripped loosely at its corner. His shoulders curve forwards.
Shiro waits a moment or two, wondering if he’ll come out and say what’s bothering him or let it stew silently. Sometimes it’s one, sometimes it’s the other, depending on the matter, and he doesn’t want to push him if Keith’s going to offer it up himself. But after Shiro has finished changing into his sleep pants and Keith still hasn’t looked up at him, he wants to check in.
“Everything okay?” Shiro asks, coming to stand in front of Keith.
Keith’s eyes flicker up to Shiro, then to the Earth calendar drawn up on the wall, then to the clock that reads 11:58, before he says, “Yeah, it’s fine.”
Ah. So that’s what it is.