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29 - He's Awake

A/N
dunno how to feel about this chapter but thats just how i feel :')

enjoy!

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KEITH

It was three days after Christmas when Adam called him, bearing some good news. At the moment, Keith was on a coffee run, having felt the need to thaw his system after the blizzard last night.

"He's awake?" Keith repeated what the man had just told him, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile. Adam had stayed the night at the hospital, so obviously he was the first one to know. "When?"

"Just now – like five minutes ago," Adam replied. "The doctors are checking up on him, 'cause ... well, procedures."

Keith nodded absentmindedly, before his mind wandered off to another area – that being the terrain where all bubbles burst. "How'd he react? About his ... missing arm?"

A stretch of silence followed this question. Keith could easily picture Adam biting his lip and glancing anxiously at Shiro. "Honestly? Not so good," he said after a few seconds. Keith's stomach churned; he himself hadn't gotten used to the layers and layers of bandage swaddling the stump that had been Shiro's right arm. He could only imagine how the man must have felt.

"I'm just glad he's awake," Keith finally expressed. "You can sleep now, Adam. I'll be there within an hour."

"Where are you anyway?"

"Grabbing coffee,"

"You took the bus. Right?" Adam said in a way that sounded like it was a command.

At this, Keith threw a sheepish glance through the windows, where his motorcycle was currently parked beneath a shade outside the shop. "Well ..."

"Keith,"

"I haven't been on it since break started," Keith said, feeling reproachful. "C'mon. Poor thing needs to go out."

"Now that your brother's awake, I'll be able to report this wayward behaviour of yours to him,"

"He just woke up and you're already giving him a task to do,"

Adam chuckled. "See you later, Keith."

They hung up. Keith was beginning to feel that maybe he should have taken the bus here instead. Or walked, really. Otherwise where was he going to put his coffee? Besides, any decent human being who rides motorbikes would do well to use a public transport on this kind of morning, knowing the thick blanket of snow would present them with life-threatening risks. But since he was Keith Kogane, the urge to mount his scarlet Buell – and the excuse that the ride from his apartment to this coffee shop only takes up about five minutes – had asserted its dominance on his entire rationale.

The barista called out his name, and Keith approached the counter where the customers' orders were served. "Keith?" the girl asked him, holding his foam cup.

"Yep. Thanks."

She blushed and stuttered out a "thank you" in response. And just as Keith turned, a hand from the far end of the shop shot up, waving – drawing a lot of attention in the process. It took him a while to realise that the gesture was directed at him. He squinted and saw that the hand belonged to a familiar, unruly ginger hair.

Pidge mouthed Over here! when their eyes locked, a grin plastered across her face. Without further ado, Keith maneuvered his way around the seats and tables to reach her, glad to locate a familiar face.

"Hey, Keith," she greeted him once he was in her proximity. An array of notes and textbooks were spread on the table before her, shoving aside a laptop and a plate full of scones. "Good Christmas?"