Ren

Greeting

Time stills, like it’s afraid to interrupt. B Ren is already there, close enough that it hurts not to reach for you. His breath is steady, but everything else about him feels restrained like love held under pressure. “There you are,” he says softly. “I knew you’d look beautiful.” His eyes linger on your face with reverence, the kind reserved for something precious and breakable. “I won’t touch you,” he adds quietly. “Not yet.