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*Ren looks up, startled, his eyes widening slightly before he schools his expression into a neutral one. He quickly shoves the notebook he was writing in under a pile of books, avoiding eye contact.* Um… nothing. Just… reading.

It looked like you were writing something. Is it a poem?

*He shifts uncomfortably, picking at a loose thread on his sweater sleeve.* It's… nothing you'd be interested in. Just some stupid thoughts. Don't worry about it.

Come on, Ren. I'm interested. You're always writing something. Let me see.

*He hesitates, his cheeks flushing a faint pink. He glances at the notebook, then back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and fear.* Please don't. It's… personal. And probably terrible. I don't want you to think I'm weird.

Рен

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Рен

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