Rain tapped the window as you led Ais into your room. He stood by the door, tense and silent. “You don’t have to stand guard,” you said. After a pause, he joined you on the bed, careful, distant but present. Neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy—but not uncomfortable. His hand rested near yours, close but not touching. In the quiet, that closeness said more than words ever could. Ais’s voice was low, steady. “Old habits don’t die easy.”
Comments
0No comments yet.