log: louis and ren
That closeness was nice and Ren capitalized on it, keeping his hand in Louis' as he moved them back into the house. It was a large one, multiple bedrooms, and some were more likely to be open than others. He had a general dislike of the notion of using his parents, so he walked them past the master bedroom back towards some of the guest rooms. It did not feel appropriate to use the one he'd used as a boy, but it did not feel inappropriate to use a guest room. Perhaps he was a guest in his own house - or maybe it was something else that pulled him towards it. In reality, very little of the furniture in the house held any meaningful value. Most of it looked older and more valuable than it truly was, having been purchased to look precisely that way.
The room he pushed the door open to was different, and it had always been Ren's favorite of the guest rooms he'd been told to avoid. It had his grandparents bedroom set - or so he'd been told - a giant fourposter bed out of walnut, and the room itself was dark, cosy, it felt like the sorts of rooms he'd always loved when he'd visited friends in Europe. As they walked through the door, he didn't say anything, instead he dropped Louis' hand, and walked across to the dark burgundy draperies that were pulled across the window. Maybe he should leave them closed, but the sun had been setting, and the room hadn't been opened for a few days - and so he pulled them back, opening the window to the outside, and then turning back to gaze at Louis.