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No matter how many strings he looped around the push pins or photographs he hung on the board, he still couldn't figure out the hidden meaning he knew was lurking just out of sight. The faint pulse in the back of his head hummed, had been humming for weeks it seemed. Growling in frustration, he rested his forehead against the rough material. A bittersweet smile crossed his face when he turned his head. He ran a finger over the small photo in the corner of the board.
I think I might be losing my mind out here, Shiro. He thought to himself as he studied the picture fondly. With a sigh, he sat down on the dusty couch and pulled his notebook and pen off of the table. Writing his thoughts down and letting them go had been the only thing keeping him anywhere close to sane through all this.
I've always been drawn to the desert, ever since I came to the Garrison. Keith wrote, pausing to chew on the already mangled back end of the pen. I thought it was because I liked the peace and quiet and how beautiful it was. And then later I thought it was because we had our spot and could just be together and not have to worry about anything.
Images flooded unbidden into his mind’s eye. He and Shiro on their backs under the stars, holding hands and giving constellations silly names. Sunday afternoon picnics in the shade of one of the large rocks, laughing and talking until long after the sun had set. Their first kiss, hurried and soft and shy. Their second kiss, electricity and fire and clacking teeth. The thousand kisses afterwards ranging everywhere in between. His throat suddenly felt tight.
But now… it's like this constant thrum in the back of my mind. It's telling me something but I don't know what it means. There's this cave… and all these markings of lions, but they're all blue. There are star maps, too. I still have my Garrison laptop, I think I technically stole it but that doesn't matter anymore. I have all of the astronomy stuff from class and the things you sent me for fun. The constellations in the star maps line up with the projected mapping for later this week. Something is happening but it doesn't say what. I'm not sure if it's a comet or something to do with the weird lion drawings or something else entirely.
Keith looked up at the cork board again. None of this made any sense, but every time he tried to ignore it, it was like something was physically pushing him back to that spot. He couldn't recall how many days he'd spent in those caves cataloging, but it was surely far too many. Everything there pointed to some big event, some arrival, happening this week.
It's so stupid but I'm letting myself get my hopes up. I know it has nothing to do with you, but God I want it to. I don’t know if I believe in God anymore or if I ever did, but I’ve never believed in anything as much as I believe in you.
Tear drops littered the page as he wrote; there were more tearstained pages in this particular book than clean ones. His eyes closed and his head fell forward. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to will away the memories and the hope and the fear.
I wish I could still dream about you. Even if it's nightmares again. Whenever I sleep the only things I remember dreaming are those damn drawings.
He had always loved animals, but if he never saw another lion in his life it would be too soon. The caves were consuming all of his thoughts and the lions consumed every wall of the caves. He pulled the strawberry scented candle from the table and popped the lid off the jar. Once he'd finished lighting it, he grabbed his pen again.
I improvised a bunch of explosives from some of the junk around the house and some things I was able to steal from town. If nothing happens this week I'm blowing those caves and the stupid lions to hell.
It was probably an overreaction and he had no idea if he'd actually go through with it, but knowing he had the option was almost as comforting as the light strawberry scent that slowly began to fill the small room.
I miss you so much I don't know what to do with myself. I'm so lost, Shiro. I know you're gone and you're not coming back and I need to move on, but I can't. Every day hurts . I wish I would have taken more pictures of you. I've filled three sketchbooks but I feel like I can never do you justice with only a pencil. Please come home. I know it's impossible, but do it anyway. Please.
Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the small photostrip he always kept there. When he noticed the edges start to crack and the colors start to fade, he'd gone and had it laminated. The white, faded line where he'd had to fold it to fit it in his pocket just barely cut the top of Shiro's hair out of the third frame. He brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the bottom picture, the one of Shiro blushing, beaming smile on his face. The light of the day had faded and it was difficult to see in the soft lamp light, but Keith knew he'd never forget a single pixel on that photograph as long as he lived.
It doesn't really matter when I go to bed since I don't have anything to do, but I've been trying to be good about getting enough sleep because you always used to tell me how important it was. I never thought I'd miss you nagging me to quit working so hard and get some rest, but I do. I miss your smile, too. The little one you always saved just for me. I miss falling asleep with my head on your chest. I should have paid more attention to the sound of your heart beating. Sometimes I feel like I haven't had a heartbeat since you left.
He kept writing through his tears, needing to get this out. To put it down on paper so it wasn't stuck swirling through his head every moment of every day. His teeth were clenched so tightly his jaw began to ache.
I'm doing my best, Shiro. But it's so hard without you. I should have told you I loved you every single day from second I saw you. It still wouldn't have been enough. He started several sentences but scratched them all out with harsh lines. I should go to bed. Wish me luck this week.
It still felt unfinished. Like there were a million other things to say. A million things he would never get to tell Shiro, so the next best thing was tiring out his hand scrawling them down until his eyes were too blurry from tears and he was too exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed. Sighing again, he ended this entry the same way he'd ended many others before it.
Good night, Shiro.