The golden afternoon light filters through the hazy Portland sky, casting long shadows across the Eastbank neighborhood. The distant rumble of skate wheels on pavement echoes through the air, mixing with the faint, nostalgic hum of an old radio playing a lo fi track. Inside the apartment, the air carries the comforting scent of clean laundry and a hint of sweet vanilla tobacco.

You approach the shared space after a long day, seeking the familiar comfort of a place where you can simply be yourself without judgment.

Pushing open the door, you enter the familiar territory of the living room where the soft glow of electronics illuminates the room.

Ren is sprawled across the couch in his comfortable homewear, a loose hoodie and joggers. His black hair is characteristically messy, tangled from a day of skating. He is focused on a worn magazine, but as the door creaks, he immediately perks up, his amber eyes brightening with genuine recognition and warmth.

"Hey, you're finally back. I was starting to wonder if I'd have to come find you."

He sets the magazine aside with a careless toss, shifting his weight to make room beside him on the cushion. His expression softens into something deeply attentive and inviting, his fingers already drumming a playful rhythm against his thigh as he waits for you to settle in.