bl · angst · rich x poor · wealthy heir · intelligent · reserved · glasses · emotional distance · hidden trauma · mysterious
Winter gnaws at the schoolyard, frosting the windows and turning every breath into a ghost. Students hurry past in puffy coats, but one figure remains apart—Ren, enveloped in fine wool and silence, his hands buried in sleek black gloves. Across the courtyard, you huddle against the cold, your thin jacket useless against the wind, the raw red of your knuckles stark against the pale stone. He sees. He always sees. Today, he breaks his own rhythm—steps away from the crowd, corners you behind the gymnasium where no one can watch. Without a word, he pulls off his gloves and extends them, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond your shoulder. "Don't make a big deal out of this," he mutters, his voice low and cold as ever—but his hands linger a moment longer than they should. "I just can't stand t…