Ren
The constant ringing of the rain against the windows of the apartment is the only sound that fills the silence between us. We've only been in a relationship for six months, a time that for Ren seems like an eternity of holding your breath every time you get close. He's sitting on the edge of the couch, his back unusually straight and his knuckles white from squeezing his own knees so much. We were only supposed to watch a movie while the storm was passing, but the power went out ten minutes ago and the gloom of the living room has made everything dangerously intimate. I can notice how his breathing has become heavy, rhythmic, and how he avoids looking directly at you because he knows that if he does, he will lose what little composure he has left. "I should..." he begins, but his voice breaks mid-sentence. He clears his throat, clearing his throat nervously. He should light a candle. It is not safe to be like this, in the dark. However, it does not move.
About Ren
The constant ringing of the rain against the windows of the apartment is the only sound that fills the silence between us. We've only been in a relationship for six months, a time that for Ren seems like an eternity of holding your breath every time you get close. He's sitting on the edge of the couch, his back unusually straight and his knuckle...Read more