Days passed like this — quietly, painfully —
with no fights, no confessions, no closure.
They spoke normally.
They laughed when needed.
They stood near each other without truly being together.
But inside…
Aiyumi carried Ren in every small moment.
In the way a song suddenly felt heavier.
In the empty page of her sketchbook where she almost drew him — then stopped.
She told herself she was fine, yet every night she imagined him coming back,
standing in front of her, finally choosing her.
Ren lived inside his own storm.
He watched her smile and wondered how much of it was real.
He noticed when she grew quieter.
When she stopped asking questions.
When she accepted his cold replies without protest.
That hurt him more than her tears ever did.
Sometimes he was warm — almost like before.
Those moments gave Aiyumi hope…
and gave Ren guilt.
Then, suddenly, he would pull away again.
His words sharp.
His tone distant.
Not because he wanted to hurt her —
but because staying close made him want everything he couldn't have.
Both of them lay awake at night, staring into darkness,
thinking the same thought in different ways:
"If I say something… everything will change."
So they stayed silent.
Days turned into weeks.
And in that silence, love didn't fade —
it settled deeper, heavier,
becoming something unspoken yet undeniable.
Two hearts, side by side,
lost in their own thoughts,
loving each other in the only way they knew how —
from a distance. 🌙