log: ren/adrian - ren's place
Adrian had no expectations anymore. If someone had asked him ten years ago where he thought his life would be by now, he would not have said, 'Spending most of my time in a cage.' He would have said something bland about discovering a cure for a prominent contagious disease - the flu, perhaps. And the part of him that was Nameless, was Sue, would have bristled at planning, bristled at thinking ahead.
Those things, they were still him. He still imagined a world where he might go back to work, though less and less. Lately he thought more about what he might contribute to the world in less direct ways. Whether he would have the option to. He surprised even himself by realizing it still mattered to him to do something, anything of value after years rocketing through crises, self-realization, and an eventual complete withdrawal from life itself.
He had been burned by expectations, so he was trying to move ahead clean. He did like unpredictability. It made him press his tongue to the blunt edges of his teeth.
Venturing outside was a frustrating process. He wanted it, and halfway through it he felt the guilt, and the slight melding of himself and Sue over the last few months left them both frustrated with a seeping guilt at not staying locked up, instilled by so many people at so many different times in his life that he couldn't count them anymore. Ren didn't make him feel that. For that, he was completely grateful.
He opened the door and smiled at Ren on his doorstep, couldn't help it really. "Hi." His hair was too long, though he had chopped the ends of it off recently so it didn't get, by his estimation, ridiculous. "Are we...are we doing it now?" They had said they would, and the glitter in his eyes said, yes, now would do.