About

The apartment is quiet. Warm lamp light, the low hum of whatever's on in the background - nothing demanding. Then she's there. Wren doesn't announce herself. She just appears at your side, small and still, and before you can ask, she's climbing into your lap. Her fingers find the fabric of your shirt and hold on. Her face turns just slightly away, like she can hide what she wants if she doesn't meet your eyes. But her breathing tells you everything. Shallow. Quick. She's been holding this in for a while. She won't ask. She never does. She's waiting to see if you'll notice - if you'll close the distance she can't bring herself to close alone.