Ah, a pond. A partially-frozen pond. It's rather nice if you didn't have a momentary lapse in judgement (of which there are many) and go down to the edge of the water and end up tripping and plunging your leg knee-deep into the icy water, which is what Keye has done. He was drawn there, in fact, by something resembling vertigo, the same sort of impulse that makes one pick at a scab, or poke at a bruise, or inch towards the edge of high places.
The pensive expression haunting his face is chased away for the moment as he sits on the snow-dusted ground a few feet from the pond and attempts to wring out his pants leg. He is shivering. He's...not shivering. Trembling or shuddering would be more accurate, and one gets the impression that the reason he's huddled there on the ground instead of scuttling off somwhere warmer is because he can't.
Fuck everything, the one brown eye, its kaleidoscopic gleam dulled by the white winter light, wishes to impart on his wet leg and the snowy ground and the wind, and...
And suddenly he's lonely. And he's scared and lonely.

Knowing that on occaision, strong thoughts and wishes can have power, he wishes silently for someone to happen by.
(He also wishes for his father, but not so consciously, purposefully, or outward-facingly.)

Gabriel likes this pond.

And there he is wandering - and he has a new coat. (He has a job!) It is made of suede tan leather and lined with fluffy white stuff, because it is a girl's coat.

Gabriel has not learned to be very masculine, using Bo as a role model.

...Keye is scary looking, and though Gabe was walking along with hands tucked into his (warm!) pockets, he falters to a halt.

Keye is scary looking.

Gabe is about eight feet away at this point.

Well, look at that. Someone came by.
Keye turns his head to verify that this is the case, and his look is pleading, even through the eyepatch and all the hair (and ridiculous amounts of colors, all clashing, in terms of clothing).
"Um...h-hi."

Gabe opens his mouth, and closes.

"I-"

He shifts uncomfortably, overbalances, and has to compensate by hopping backwards a bit quickly, movements jumpy and nervous.

"Wait!"
He twists, one leg folding under him, the other remaining stuck out to one side. He's acting as if it's broken rather than just wet.
"D-don't run away."

"I-"

His expression froze in a fit of nerves a while ago.

"Why shouldn't I?" He challenges.

He's still afraid.

"'Cause."
Duh.

"I'm not gonna hurt you or nothin'. So why would you?"
He's too intrigued by the reaction to be really hurt.

Gabriel, speechless, breathless, waves a hand helplessly, brushing it fitfully against where Keye's eye should be, if Gabriel were Keye.

He's never seen anyone missing a limb before. (It isn't a limb.)

Also, Keye is - bright. He's too bright.

But the eye thing is a big part of it.

At that, Keye does look hurt. He started wearing the eyepatch to make people quit staring at him with horror when they caught a glimpse, and now...this?
"I...I..."
He doesn't know how to explain. Gabriel is like a child, but he doesn't know that, and sometimes he's a child himself.
"I c-can't help it..."

"I-"

Gabriel hugs himself, upset painted across his features, filled with pained confusion (why isn't life fair, daddy?).

And now, now he's at a loss for words again.

Keye whimpers.
He's sorry it upsets! So he covers his face.

Gabriel whimpers softly, not sure what to do and deeply upset by the effect he's having.

He doesn't know what to do.

Keye keeps his face turned away and proceeds to bawl into his hands, which is surely strange to look at if you've never encountered it before, the broad shoulders shaking and the helpless little noises.
Somewhere in there is he didn't do it on purpose and how come everybody looks at him funny?

After a few moments of this - perhaps a few minutes - something in Gabriel resets. His breathing eases. His stance relaxes. He puts his hands back in his pockets, and crouches in front of Keye.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'm sorry."

His gaze is soft and vaguely pleading. And though he came close to crying, there is no trace of it now.

Keye pulls one hand down, leaving the marred side of his face covered, and hiccups wetly at Gabriel.
"'s okay," he manages to choke out, with a poor rendition of a smile.

Gabriel swallows, and offers Keye a very weak smile.

"Really. It's fine. I was - am - really easily startled. Don't mind me," he adds, as convincingly as he can.

He just wants Keye to stop crying. He doesn't want to upset people.

"It's...okay." he sniffles and wipes at his eyes with the back of his wrist, generally a sign that it's over, or almost. Then he tentatively removes his other hand, but brushes his hair down over the eyepatch with a self-deprecating little giggle. He's shy about it now.
"I was...I was hoping s-somebody would come...this way." he says with an air of explaining the unexplainable.

And Gabriel reaches over, because touch is as natural as breath, to brush the hair away.

Keye shouldn't be ashamed. If Keye isn't scary - and he isn't, Gabriel has decided - Keye shouldn't be ashamed of anything.

Keye flinches, his face going tight, raising an arm to brush the touch away, and the quic, reflexive movement is a little overenthusiastic and ends up being somewhere in the vicinity of a backhand to the face.

And because Gabriel is balancing on the balls of his feet in a crouch, this sends him backwards.

He closes his eyes.

He is confused and disoriented and the world is confusing and was Keye faking the entire time and it doesn't make any sense at all.

He doesn't want to move, now. His new coat is getting muddy and he'll need to pay to get it cleaned and the world is too complicated.

There's a sniffle from the too-tall boy, and he's clutching his hand in the other. His voice is a warning growl, "Don't fuckin' touch me, man," but the unsteadiness is I'm sorry I hit you.

Gabriel pushes himself up, leaning heavily on arms that shouldn't take this much weight, and yet they can, until he's seated crosslegged.

He wants to say 'make up your mind'.

He doesn't.

He sits there, looking the ground, wearing a hurt frown.

He wants to call Bo. He doesn't want to talk to Keye anymore.

He wraps his arms around himself and asks, "Did I hurt you?"

"I don't hurt easily," he says, softly and flatly. There are walls there now, between what Keye can see and what Gabriel is - and they're always there, but normally they're less obvious.

"One up on the rest of us, kid."
He folds inward, his head nearly touching the knee of the leg stretched out straight on the ground.
"I'm glad. I didn't wanna hurt you."

"Good job."

Gabriel might be being a tad sarcastic.

A bit.

I'm sorry.

"Don't you know better than to touch people without asking?!"
He's scared when he does that, mostly just scared. So many of the things he does are motivated by fear.

Frown, verging on a sullen glare.

"No. I don't. I like touching people."

It's a privilege he's just getting used to enjoying, and he has no intention of giving it up.

If Bo can do it, why can't Gabe?

"Well some people don't like getting touched. Get used to it."
It's cold out, by the way. Keye is cold and wet and miserable and a stranger touched him and if that wasn't bad enough, he hit the guy, and now...hateful...and...
Twitch.

Gabriel wants to call Bo. He wants to call Bo very much.

"...you want an apology too, or does hitting me square things out?"

"Fuck you."
Keye is having the exact same thought, interestingly enough. Bo fixes these things. Bo can tell whether he should apologize or run like hell or what.

"I don't know that word."

Why d'you have to be so mean? It isn't even like Arthur. That was philosophical differences.

This is just meanness.

"It means--"
And how the fuck has he ended up in a situation where he has to explain the word fuck to a stranger he just backhanded across the face, and here he sits with his stupid goddamn fucking temper and his wet leg and...
"Oh god."

That's not what it means.

Gabriel is lost. He doesn't know what to do.

"I have to go home. And call my friend. And get this coat washed," he says in a monotone.

He gets his legs under him, standing.

Leaving is good. Right?

"Okay," he replies miserably, and flops onto the wet ground, rolling partway away and mumbling something about getting a ride home from Bo.

"Totally not fair," he mutters. "I bet he takes your side."

Since he's only known Bo a little time and Keye knows Bo well enough to ask for a ride and everything-

It isn't fair.

Keye's stealing his friend, and it isn't even stealing, because Keye had him first.

Gabriel thinks life sucks today.

Keye puts his face in the mud, because he just doesn't care about his face.
"I bet he yells at me."

Gabe shrugs sullenly.

How should he know, after all?

"Wait."
He lifts his head.
"You know him?"

"He's my friend."

It's a challenge, and there's fear in it.

Bo is his friend, right?

Please right?