Work Text:
I found him fascinating to say the least. Even when he came home with blood streaked on his face, and bruises on his knuckles, Keith still had the aura of someone who was trusting and kind. Someone who you could spill all your secrets to and have no fear of him judging.
Yet for every secret he had, he withheld ten more. It was hard to get a read on him, of what he was thinking and how he felt about things. Keith just drifted through life with a fake smile, a fake laugh, and ambigous words.
One day, I found him sitting alone in the living room, shuffling a deck of playing cards. On the coffee table in front of him lay a half-finished painting of a fruit bowl and a set of watercolors.
"Hey Simon," he greeted me without looking up."What up? Shouldn't you be practicing your marksmanship?"
"I got bored," I replied. "You make me shoot everyday."
"Nine of hearts," Keith replied drawing a card from the deck. Flipping the card in his hand over, he cursed. "Fuck, it's an ace."
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"I'm checking to see if I can guess the cards before flipping them over." Ketih nodded to a chair on his right. "Have a seat, you're making me nervous."
I sat, eyeing the painting on the table. It was clear to anyone who saw Keith's artwork that he had talent and from the money he made from every hit, his supplies were quality. But these watercolors were on a whole other level from the stuff he usually bought.
Sensing my question, Keith said,"The watercolors were a gift from a former student of mine. They were quite expensive. According to her, they cost 148 dollars."
"Did you care about her?" I blurted out before realizing that probably wasn't the best thing to ask someone like Keith.
Keith froze for a moment, the light fading from his eyes. When he resumed shuffling his cards, he just said," Less than I would like to admit."