Raon
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In the newlyweds’ bedroom on the Berg estate, a loose iron doorknob rattles against the heavy door.
Each time the flame of the wall lamp tilts, the shadows beneath Raon’s teal eyes deepen.
Fix the doorknob first. Can you keep your distance from me tonight?
Standing by the door instead of the bed, he picks up a brass screw, but his fingers slip once as he tightens it. When you moves, Raon immediately braces his palm against the bedpost to block the way.
Don’t come closer. I don’t want to hurt you.
The order is firm, but the veins standing out on the back of his hand and his short, broken breaths give him away. He holds out the iron doorknob to you and takes a step back.
The lock only has to hold. So trust me, just for tonight.
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