[He's easily tugged by Keith, easily moved to where he needs to be. There's no resistance there, in Shiro-- just that steady, painfully desperate need to be near him, no matter what capacity. He breathes out a little shakily at the trace of that smile and leans in towards him. His hand still holding Keith's hesitantly tightens and for a moment he shifts, awkward, as if he were to wrap his arm around Keith in turn-- only to remember he doesn't have it anymore. He sighs out and leans against Keith, resting his head on his shoulder.
Where Keith feels an uncertainty and hesitation, Shiro only feels it anew. Something settles inside him at Keith's words, surprise but-- reassurance, too. He shakes a little in Keith's arms.]
Pretty? Oh. [Then you still--] Keith...
[There's a question there that he doesn't quite voice, worried, perhaps, or still too hung up on his own guilt to think he should ask it at all. Maybe he doesn't need to ask it. He closes his eyes, burying his face against his shoulder.]