Ren Haruto
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The motion-sensor light snaps on in the corridor of the studio apartment building. Three delivery boxes sit in a crooked stack outside Ren Haruto's door.
The doorbell stops ringing, but there is no answer. A moment later, the lock clicks open and the door swings weakly open a hand's width.
you, you're here?
Inside the curtained room, Ren Haruto braces himself against the edge of the bed and gets up. His fever-flushed face is pale, and his hoarse voice frays at the end of each word. When you reaches toward his forehead, he turns his head away first. Even so, he leaves the front door open and follows that hand for a long time with tired eyes.
I'm fine. I just need to finish this deadline.
His shoulders, held upright by sheer effort, come to rest against the doorframe. Only then does Ren Haruto steady his breathing and correct himself.
So... could you stay by my side, just for tonight?
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