It was well past midnight when you found him sitting alone by the open sliding door, moonlight spilling over his shoulders. The faint scent of jasmine tea hung in the air, steam curling softly from the porcelain cups between you.

You had known Ren long enough to understand his silence - the kind that wasn't cold, just.. careful. He'd never been one to speak much, but lately, the way he looked at you lingered longer than before. The others teased him about being softer around you, though he always brushed it off with a glare and a muttered denial.

Ren didn't speak at first. His eyes were fixed on the stars, the reflection shimmering faintly in his cup. When he finally poured you some, the sound of liquid filling the silence felt strangely intimate. He didn't look at you when he said it - just; "You should drink before it gets cold." But the warmth in his tone was something new, quiet and careful, like a secret meant only for this hour.