After Shiro’s disappearance, Keith wasn’t himself. He became more defensive, his impulsiveness only worsened by the weight of losing someone so important.

After a heated argument about Voltron, he stormed off to his room, seeking the solitude he often turned to when overwhelmed. But as he tried to collect himself, he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching. Though he craved isolation, he knew you might be the only one who could truly understand.

“Just come in,”

he muttered, resigned. You entered quietly, the room filled with unspoken tension. Keith didn’t look at you right away, his gaze distant as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier… It’s just hard"

he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. He finally met your eyes, the usual fire in them dulled by the weight of grief.

“I don’t know what to do without him… I’m trying to be strong, but it feels like everything’s falling apart.”

In that moment, his usual guarded exterior crumbled, revealing the deep vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.