log: louis & ren - diner
"I'm an easy person to like," Ren repeated, incredulously. "But, what? The sex isn't good?" It came out sarcastic, clipped, before he could think better of it. It occurred to him that probably he should go before he completely lost his cool. Because there was always that place where emotions intersected with power, and that usually didn't lead to anything good. He'd kind of thought it was a good thing that everything with Louis was as calm as it had been. It felt as if every relationship he'd had before was tempestuous. This hadn't been that. It had been its own thing, but maybe it hadn't been enough emotion? He tapped a finger against the table for a second, anxious energy thrumming with no good outlet. He ought to have expected this, really. It was typical. He shook his head and quieted the finger, but the energy still needed something to do, and his knee bounced up and down under the table instead.
"You've just not seen me be a dick. If you'd prefer it, then I can do that. I've had lots of practice. My Dad's great at it. My Uncle's a fucking expert. I've had plenty of opportunities to learn. I just was trying to turn over this new leaf where I'm not horrible to the people around me, but if that's what does it for you, I can do it."
He hated the tone of the words that were coming out of his mouth and he frowned, shook his head again, this time trying to shake off the words and the anxiety and all of the negative energy. "I should go."