LOVE-SET

Keith feels his eyes prick, the swell of the music matching the swell of his heart and finally, finally he feels complete, he feels whole again, in a way he hasn't since his parents gently rested their fingers overtop of his, showing him where to put his hands. He doesn't know why they work so well, doesn't know why Lance has him running his fingers along the keys like he's being found instead of getting lost, and part of him is inclined to say it doesn't really matter why.

Because fuck, Keith hasn't played like this since... Not since he'd left. Not since he'd taken the first step, pushed everyone out of his life before they could do it to him. Not since he'd packed his bags and ran away to the other side of the country without saying anything, without telling anyone, without a goodbye. He reasoned that it would've happened sooner or later, everybody always left and this was just his way of making sure it hurt him less than it hurt anyone else. But fuck if playing with Lance didn't feel like coming home.