[For once in his life, he notices when Keith glances down, maybe if only because he's hyper-aware of all of Keith's movements right now, that longing, that desire, still coiling tightly in his chest even as he tries to push it back down again. He feels out of sorts when he notices the look, though, still unsure how to place anything about this in context, rethinking previous conversations and looks and... he doesn't want to think about it too deeply. Not right now. Not when he feels so fragile. Not when either result could be devastating in one way or another. Not when he's already made things too difficult for Keith as is.]
[But when Keith touches his arm, far from shying away or recoiling, he sinks into it, leaning into that touch, desperate to give him that reassurance in turn. He lifts his free hand, touching briefly, gently, at Keith's knuckles-- as if afraid he'd pull back immediately from that touch. When Keith smiles, he answers the smile in turn, equally as soft.]
Okay. I'll... I'll be right back.
[He lingers a moment longer before taking a step away and turning, heading back towards his room. And as is typical with him, because even in this he isn't thinking, he starts tugging his shirt up over his head before he's fully closed his door.]