Once he laid down the conch shell next to him, his eyes now traveled to the sea, the way they were always meant to. Waiting, watching, though not as clearly as he would in the morning and without the influence, and he had a hunch that the man knew and would use that to guarantee his own safety. But part of him thought the creature would be there, without a doubt. Part of him was sure, like the creature was some thing summoned from the space between night and day, a creature he didn't know himself well enough to dream of seeing again.

But he was actually there. It took Keith some time to center his focus, narrowing purple eyes before he saw the familiar oil-sheen eyes and pale skin testing him, gauging his reactions. It was [b]not[/b] a dream. Nothing inside the dark forest of his mind could conjure anything this beautiful or this terrible. His arm and hip ached from his sitting position and the feeling of his head's thumping was too visceral. The sting of salt in the air, the sickly sweet smell of the ocean, the back-and-forth flicker of light on the water and the creature’s eyes on him. No. Not a dream. Never a dream. 

[i]What are you[/i], he wanted to ask, but the question died in his throat as soon as it sprung to life. It didn't matter. What if it wasn't real, though? It could very easily be a hallucination considering the circumstances at hand, something brought on by lack of air or by the beer he gulped down. He could be in the shack right now, dreaming this. Maybe the moment he caught in the silence of the house was just another slice of his imagination, and Keith was just about done with the somersaults his mind was performing and he rubbed his eyes awake. He wasn't scared, even if he was close to being frozen in place like prey. He wasn't scared. Not at all. His inhibitions were gone, and the words that stopped in his throat had found a way to set themselves free.

"Thank you," he began faintly, and his eyes were flickering back and forth over the man before him, pupils like pinpoints, lips parted. "I know this kind of shell; it's beautiful." He stared down at it in his arms, fondly looking down at it and cocking his head a bit before his eyes were up to meet the other's once more. "I have something for you too," he said after a few seconds of silence, slowly taking the conch shell in his palm while he protectively held the trinket he was gifted, and holding it out for the other. He was playing with fire at this point, or maybe just indulging in this dream--if it was one. At least he had control over his decisions now, more in tune with what he wanted.