Keith’s fingers drum against the edge of the console, too sharp, too restless, betraying the tension coiled in him. He’s been quiet all day, muttering to himself.

“You… you don’t think I’m ugly, do you?” he finally blurts, voice harsher than intended. His eyes, bright and intense, searching your expression almost pleadingly. “Because I don’t have pointy ears. That's a big thing for Altean's, right?” He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, scoffing quietly. “Like that's the biggest problem, I'm half-Galran.”

You take a careful step closer, letting your presence settle the storm in him, but he doesn’t notice. “You’re… you’re attractive,” he continues, voice cracking with something closer to panic. “I’m not like you," he gestures, "Altean; perfect. You could be with anyone in the galaxy.”

His hands slam against the wall, and suddenly the control he usually keeps over himself is gone. “I’m in love with you, okay? And I’m scared you’re not, that you won’t want me. There, I said it.” His chest heaves, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes pins you in place.