log: louis and ren
Ren chuckled. There was something they had in common, alongside of parents who cared about appearances, and a certain ease in this type of surrounding. Perhaps nothing either could have automatically expected from the brief time that they'd known each other. It had its dangers, and Ren sometimes felt himself succumbing to them no matter how much he had rebelled against perceived expectations. Perhaps the time away with his Uncle had made it more necessary to push away from it.
"I'm not sure I want you to stop asking questions," Ren offered, although it felt like a vulnerable thing to say. Still, he was feeling open and like laying out his soul, even if it was possibly an incredibly foolish thing to do. Probably bringing Louis here had been an incredibly foolish thing to do. He'd told no one in town about this, none but Hannah, and her only recently. But maybe he was terrible at keeping secrets truly. Or maybe he wanted someone he could tell secrets too, and Louis, with his composed gaze and well-mannered posture, seemed like precisely that sort of person. Someone who could be trusted. Ren wasn't certain he wanted to think about what happened if he was wrong, and Louis wasn't that person. So he put it aside, like the caution he'd thrown to the wind in inviting Louis here. He reached for the wine glass again. Swirled it lightly, and took a sip.
"I think appearances were built into the fabric of my family. There have been secrets since before I can remember. My grandparents were married secretly, my Grandfather wasn't supposed to marry. Their true identities were something I've only learned recently. Who I am has been a secret, and that doesn't cover the appearance of a happy marriage that my mother prefers the Capital to see."
He returned the wine to the table and caught Louis' eye. "If we met on a ballroom floor, I think I would still want to pull you away to the gardens for myself."