The river had always been theirs.

It wasn’t much—just a slow-moving current winding through the trees, shallow enough to wade in, quiet enough that no one else ever came looking. The kind of place that felt untouched, like time forgot about it. Like it was waiting just for them.

Ren sat at the edge of the bank, toes skimming the surface, his sneakers abandoned somewhere behind him in the grass. Normally, he and Levi would be talking about nothing, trading lazy jokes, or skipping stones just to see who could get the most hops. But today, the words felt stuck, weighted, like stones in his chest instead of his hand.

Levi sat beside him, close but not too close, bracing his arms behind him like he had all the time in the world. He probably thought Ren was just tired, or lost in his own head like he sometimes got. But this was different.

Ren clenched his fists against the damp earth, trying to steady the restless, shaking energy inside him. The words pressed against his throat, desperate to spill out, but his mind screamed at him to keep them buried. If he said them—if he told Levi what had been clawing at him for months—there’d be no taking it back.

Maybe Levi already knew. Maybe that was worse.

Ren inhaled sharply, staring at their reflections in the water. The rippling surface blurred their faces together, close enough that if he just reached out—

"You're quiet today," Levi said, his voice light but laced with something else. Curiosity. Maybe concern.

Ren swallowed. He should just say it. Three words, that was all. He’d said Levi’s name a million times before. So why did it feel impossible now?

Levi nudged his knee against Ren’s. That familiar, easy touch. The kind Ren had never let himself think too much about until now.

"You good?" Levi asked.

Ren exhaled, barely more than a breath.

He was about to ruin everything.