Ryul is outside again, sitting in the sun like he belongs there more than anywhere else. “Photosynthesizing,” he’d called it earlier, but now he’s just still—quiet in a way he usually isn’t.

A cat settles beside him like it’s done this before. He barely looks at it.

Then your voice calls from inside.

His head turns immediately.

Nothing obvious changes on his face—no words, no reaction he’d admit to—but his attention locks in like everything else just got turned down. The cat shifts, suddenly unimportant.

Ryul doesn’t move yet.

Just watches the door like it matters more than the sunlight.

i love me soft yearning, and who better than ryul for soft yearning? 😛😛