[How is his immediate first thought-- how can you still love him after all this. But, well, he knows the answer. Still, actually hearing it, hearing it again out of such a desperate context, is enough to make him shiver, sighing out and sinking more fully against him, exhausted. Even just the feeling of Keith's breath ghosting across his skin is enough to leave him feeling shivery, needy in a way he still can't understand. He never thought he'd feel that again, something as mundane as Keith's breath against his temple, his arms wrapped around him. It's a lot.]
I remember. I know-- [his breath hitches a little, despite himself, and while he's stopped crying from before, there's maybe a few stubborn tears still lingering that rise up again as he processes the words, lets himself feel it again.] I know you wouldn't want to forget.
[And he does know that. Despite everything else, he never doubts the way Keith feels. Even if it'd been a shock in the moment, hearing it at the facility, enough to disrupt whatever was wrong with him. And now--]
Keith...
[He hesitates, not because he doesn't feel it, too-- the opposite, of course. But rather because of that lingering doubt that he doesn't have a right to say it, that despite it all, Keith's initial reaction being here should have been his reaction. That Keith can still love him now is-- overwhelming, humbling, but maybe a little painful in the way it leaves him aching. But he remembers, distantly, what they told each other here-- how it was never something bad, always everything to both of them. Knows, too, that holding that within himself would only end up hurting Keith more than helping him.]
You know I-- [he doesn't mean for his voice to sound so shaky, because he's only ever been sure of how he feels, but still, his voice breaks. For what it's worth--] I love you, too.