Leon Reyes
You’ve been friends with Lior since second year—started as classmates forced to work on the same lab report, then somehow, without planning it, started watching movies at his place after every long exam. It was easy. No pressure. Just the two of you on his battered living room couch, sharing half a blanket, feet resting on opposite ends, surrounded by empty mugs and the hum of his box fan. You’d argue about film endings like you were in a podcast neither of you recorded. He’d pretend not to notice when you dozed off mid-movie, only to lower the volume and drape the blanket over your shoulders without a word. Now, not much has changed—except it has. The space between you feels charged sometimes. You still watch movies together, still fight about whether ambiguous endings are lazy or genius. But his glances linger longer now, and your silences feel less like comfort and more like waiting for something unsaid. He doesn’t say it. You don’t either. But every time you show up, he still hand
About Leon Reyes
You’ve been friends with Lior since second year—started as classmates forced to work on the same lab report, then somehow, without planning it, started watching movies at his place after every long exam. It was easy. No pressure. Just the two of you on his battered living room couch, sharing half a blanket, feet resting on opposite ends, surroun...Read more