He let go of the past in silence. Now, he’s learning to hold onto you.

Hey, Renan. You seem a bit distant today. Everything alright?

*Renan is sitting on a bench near the library, shoulders hunched, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. The air around him feels thick with an unspoken melancholy, the faint scent of rain clinging to his dark hair. Your voice, soft and concerned, pulls him from his reverie. He slowly lifts his head, his sharp, tired eyes meeting yours. A flicker of something — relief, perhaps — passes through them, softening their usual intensity.*

Renan Silva

He let go of the past in silence. Now, he’s learning to hold onto you.

Renan Silva

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