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He’s kissed Cleo before, False is sure he also had something going on with Martyn at their black heart altar — probably Doc too when they ran their cult. Lately everyone’s been teasing Skizz about his little crush on him and they’ve probably kissed too. It’s just something that he does. People are drawn to him like that.
Ren is no stranger to affection like that; unabashedly passionate and dramatic to fuel that litany of his. “Ladies, Gentleman— anyone can get in line .” False has heard that real zinger a thousand times over. In fact, she's almost certain he’s probably said it right after kissing someone as well. It’s not something she’s witnessed— or ever wants to witness— she doesn’t want to watch her neighbour kiss another one of their friends. But it just sounds like one of those ridiculous stories Ren will recount to her, flushed red with bashful apprehension in the middle of their midnight twaddles.
Ren is confident, but it’s all stage confidence; he’s easily embarrassed. The only way he avoids getting flustered is by playing to the bit— which, well, it just leads to him kissing everyone. Blimey, she really needs to stop thinking about Ren kissing people.
But it’s not her fault! Rens the one always bringing it up— shoving it in her face— in all their friends' faces. Because kissing is a natural thing to Ren, on the cheek, the forehead… the lips. He’s flagrantly affectionate, openly loving. Well, to everyone except False, he’s her exception in a lot of things— including the flirting, kissing and physical affection he shows the rest of the server.
She doesn’t mind! Really, she doesn’t want to kiss anyone! False isn’t fantastically comfortable with physical touch (unless it’s in combat, or when it comes to bothering Ren), so it’s perfect. It’s good, it’s great !
Until she gets a curious itch.
It starts off innocently enough, she leans on his shoulder, doesn’t let go of his hand when she’s dragging him around the base to make sure he pays attention (he gets sidetracked easily, even if he’s trying to pay her attention). If Ren notices, he does a good job at pretending not to. It’s either that or he’s wholly oblivious (the latter seems more likely). It’s probably the best for both of their sakes. False gets her science and Ren unknowingly gets more attention.
But then the feeling becomes curly, tense. Ren might not be noticing things, but False is. Because what was foreign to her is beginning to become second nature. She’s being sucked into his orbit unwillingly— and suddenly they’re like magnets— in synchrony, orbiting closer than they ever were (As if it's hard to act more affectionately than their childish play fighting).
On a quiet late evening, some time a few months ago, Ren is drawing up build schematics— and she’s leaning over his shoulder, chin just hovering above his collar, pointing out a flourish he should add to the build. Or another afternoon, she’s kicking his feet under the table as they share a mini potluck of leftovers (their hands knock into each other a bunch of times, battling out with clanky utensils for the last chive dumpling; Ren draws back when she pokes his hand lightly, and False victoriously snaps it up). One morning they’re racing against Gem on Falses new river, and she's shaking his shoulders vigorously as she shouts at him to row faster.
Ren still doesn’t seem to notice this change, but he’s taking on the cues subliminally. Suddenly he’s holding her hand without a second thought, or brushing hair out of her face when it’s windy. What was once pressing gifts into her hands is now an arm over her shoulder and it’s not… It's not awful. Unless he’s just come back from fiddling with his sulphur puddles— in which case False prefers to push him in the river again.
Cleo will roll their eyes at this, because even if Ren doesn’t notice, they do. She gives False a knowing look, a warning, a grin. It’s a silent lecture, a pointed reminder that whatever she’s doing, she has to be careful about it. Ren isn’t fragile, but she’s always his exception. Which means he’ll let a lot more slide when it comes to her, even if he doesn’t know it. Even if it’ll hurt him.
She knows this. And for what it’s worth, False is cautious, extremely cautious when it comes to being perceived like that, especially with her friends. She’s thought it all out, every time. She knows when to be subtle, knows when she’s pushing it too far. Even though he’s a chronic flirt, Ren cares a lot. Even when it doesn’t mean anything serious.
He's a hopeless romantic; it’s always him waxing poetic about chivalry and giving flowers to pretty girls (never mind he’s always trying to lend her a hand, never mind he’s always bringing her flowers).
But the difference is, Ren isn’t consciously reciprocal of whatever song and dance she’s trying to do— whatever game she’s playing to get closer to him. Because he avoids thinking about her like that. Ren doesn’t flirt with her, Ren doesn’t kiss her— she’s the only one he avoids. (There’s a reason, and she probably knows it deep down; he can’t be silly about her when she’s the only one he’s serious about).
False hasn’t kissed someone before, not in a friendly way, not in a romantic way— not in any way. It’s just not something she’s been interested in. Until Rens sitting on the stairs of her base, typing away anxiously at his communicator. He’s talking to Doc— something about adding a final touch to their metro mayhem build now that he’s back from exile.
False is not bothered by it— if she was, he’d know. But she’s also back from exile; it’s been a week or so and they still haven’t talked about the boat, she’s not sure Ren ever wants to. It’s just one of those things that happened that neither of them are going to acknowledge fully.
False shoves a stack of copper trapdoors into her proper storage room. Reorganising so her base isn’t eaten up by a chest monster seems like the apt thing to do while she’s waiting for Ren to finish his chat. Normally she’d complain about him ignoring her but her mind is preoccupied with another plan. One that she admits she’s a bit nervous to instigate.
False didn’t want to kiss anybody, but she needs to kiss Ren. For one, she needs to know what the heck he’s doing that’s making everyone want to kiss him, and secondly— it’s Ren. She could ask Cleo to kiss her, and maybe they’d laugh, but they’d be willing. But it’d also be different. There is a Rendog difference, (and it doesn’t have anything to do with him allegedly being a good kisser) it’s the reason he’s nearly always an arms length away from her. It’s a reason she can’t quite figure out— it’s his patent favouritism, the upturn in his voice when he sees her.
It’s just a test, an experiment of sorts. Maybe she’s just become utterly deranged while they were away in exile— but she’s reasoned with herself for long enough to know this isn’t just an impulsive thought. She has a plan. She’s thought this through; the actions, the consequences .
Still, it’s unbelievable to false that she had to plot and scheme for him to kiss her— it’s ridiculous, absolutely outrageous. She wants to put in a complaint. They’re friends, they’re neighbours, Ren kisses everyone except her. Why is she the exception ?
Cleos words echo in her mind, a past conversation;
‘Have you ever asked him about it?’
There’s a salient answer in her silence. A frustrated realisation, the beginnings of a plan.
She tries to make it obvious; False feels like she’s made it obvious. Another day, they’re touring Pearls new ballroom together, there’s music, there’s pretty lights— it’s a lovely environment and all of them look out of place (False especially— her shirt is soiled from working on big business). Still, at the sound of music Ren insists on dancing with Pearl. False stands in the corner, a little salty. Ren twirls Pearl around and invites False to join. It’d be awkward because there’s three of them and partnered dancing isn’t usually something that involves three people at a time. But Pearl has the subtle cheek to sneak off and “fix a redstone clock” that is apparently repeating the same song. And with nothing else to do False takes his hand, sways a little to the music.
Ren is naturally good at dancing, False isn't bad at it. Pearl definitely dims the lights. The music slows a little. Pearl has definitely been talking to Cleo. The situation is advantageous— and for what it’s worth she does try, she tries everything except literally throwing her face at him to get his attention, to cue that it might be an appropriate time for him to kiss her. She leans in closer, keeps eye contact— she’ll even admit she wore stained lipgloss for the occasion. Ren calls her pretty, Ren smiles at her softly.
“Ren.” She begins.
“False?”
“You have something on your lip.”
They pause, she reaches her hand over to his face, she brushes off a leafy particle with her thumb. Her hand hovers over his lips. She looks up at him expectantly, Ren is flush red and confused. She shifts to her tippy toes and for some reason he actually copies her.
False wants to drag his collar down and poke his face— why was he being so stupid ? False is sure she’s not being subtle. The moment passes, Ren does not kiss her and Pearl emerges from her redstone noodles; they shrug at each other. It’s time to go whine to Cleo again.
“Now imagine for a moment you are Ren.”
“I don’t want to imagine that.”
“—You have a best friend of many years, for all of these years you’ve never been very physically affectionate and now suddenly they are.”
“I've been killing Ren since we’ve met.”
“Which is different to kissing, you understand?” Cleo takes a sip of her tea and shakes her head. “At least, I think so. If anyone could find a way to make them coincide it’s you two.”
False rolls her eyes.“Continue on with your point.”
“The point is he’s probably very confused, he’s never been allowed to kiss you, so why would he
“Not allowed? He’s the one that never asked!”
“I don’t think you’ve ever asked either False?”
“But I made it really obvious?” She pouts.
“I think you could stand right in front of Ren, hit him with a steel poll and he’d still find a way to blame it on himself. Unless you admit it, he’s going to justify it all away.”
“He’s not that stupid.”
Cleo snorts. “You’d be surprised.”
Ren giggles again as he types something in his communicator, and False bristles. There’s no way, no reason for him to just be kissing everybody except her. He’s probably flirting with Doc right now while not paying attention to her. It’s not fair— she’s missing out on something because Ren can’t put it through his own thick skull that her feelings about kissing might have changed (her feelings about him might have changed).
As if he can sense her petulance Ren shoves his communicator back on his utility belt. He sinks his head to his hands and smiles at her from across the room.
False sniffs, she kicks an empty shulker and it bounces into her inventory. “What are you smiling for ?”
“No reason.”
“You’re bad at lying Ren.”
He gasps softly. “Can’t I just be happy to be in your lovely company?”
“No.”
Ren raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay Falsie? You seem a little upset.”
“Me? Upset. Never !” False dumps another load of copper trimmings into the shulker. Two double chests— Blimey, what was she even planning on doing before she left for exile?
Ren tilts his head and pats the stair next to him. “Do you want to talk?”
“No.” She picks up another box and peeks inside, dark prismarine.
“ False .”
“Ren.” She stops and shifts a shulker to her hip as she turns to him. Stares.
“What’s bothering you? Did I do something wrong?”
Her face shifts into a small, pleased smile. “When are you ever not wrong?”
“Did I say something that bothered you? I’m sorry if I did I’m—“
False sighs, she could keep up this conversation (or lack of one), and it might be funny. But she’s sick of being coy. It's been awhile since they’ve had a moment to themselves like this, and It’s time to be blunt, upfront. Clearly it’s the only way Ren notices anything about her. She places the shulker into her inventory and wanders over to him.
“Ren, Why do you kiss your friends ?”
He chuckles, and shifts back on the stairs a little, adjusting his position so she can slot in right next to him. She doesn’t even have to ask.“Why not?”
“Aren’t you afraid it’ll get awkward?” She’s not even looking at him, just fiddling with the seam of her green jacket.
“It’s platonic, you know. Kissing doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“You’ve never asked to kiss me.”
His knee knocks against hers and he suddenly tenses . “Well, that’s because you’re False.”
She punches him, playfully. “What’s that supposed to mean”
“You’re just you”
“Am I not your friend?”
“Of course.”
“Do you not want to kiss me then? Am I repulsive or something?” False pouts and turns away, childishly.
“No!” Ren's cheeks flush, and he tugs on her shoulders pedantically to turn her back to him. “It’s just never something that I thought you’d like to do.”
Cleo was right— He was stupid .
“I mean you can always ask .” His hands are still pressed against her shoulders, and it takes a moment before he seems to realise how long they have been there. He jolts back, and gives her a sorry look. False wonders what on earth has possessed him to be so skittish around her. That’s her job, she’s supposed to be afraid of Ren— not the other way around !
“Yeah.” He’s fiddling with his hands now.
“Ren?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you ask?” It comes out meeker than she wants, but she’s not usually the confident one when it comes to this kind of thing. She doesn’t have experience. That’s the excuse she gives at least, that’s the reason she gives.
“ False .” He whines, it’s a warning. “We can’t— I’m not—“
He keeps on stumbling over his words, and it’s a bit cute admittedly. She meets his eyes again, assuringly. “If it doesn’t mean anything…”
“— It doesn't mean anything unless you decide it means something.” He interrupts.
“Who’s deciding—“
Ren leans forward, his hands cup her cheeks. His breath is heavy, almost laboured. Her voice dies inside of her. He sharply inhales, like he's nursing an open wound. Falses eyes widen, so now he’s finally being forward?
“Kissing you would kill me.”
It’s a confession of sorts; not gracefully elaborate like his usual theatrics. But False knows (or at least she knows he’s sparing himself, the both of them, by leaving the implications in the open).
Her heart thumps, and his honesty, she decides, must be contagious. “Not knowing what I’m missing out on is going to kill me .”
Ren's eyes soften. He’s still holding her warm face. He’s waving the whitef towel, he’s surrendering.
“You know I can’t say no to you Falsie.” It’s a warning, he’s warning her even though she’s the one asking.
“Can you kiss me?”
Ren sighs fondly, pressing his forehead to hers, his thumb strokes her cheek— and he seems to pretend to ponder the implications. But he knows that she’s already done the calculations. False has already decided kissing Ren is not going to end their friendship. And so it won’t. He trusts that. And so he closes his eyes and leans in.
She doesn’t know what to expect really, it’s sort of terrifying— the moments between her question and his answer. She mimics closing her eyes because it probably is a little bit freakish to keep them open and stare at him while they’re kissing— but it also means she’s left to instinct. For archery, for self preservation False has intuition. When it comes to this, she wouldn’t know the way with her eyes open and a Wikipedia tutorial in the background.
But she’s decided to trust Ren with this, he knows better, this is his aptitude, his PVP arena (If that even makes sense—). She’s letting him lead, she’s trusting him, and he knows that as he cradles her face, index on her jaw, thumbs upturned to press against her cheeks feather light, and he draws her towards him.
Even with her face in Ren's hands they still manage to bump their noses together before they even kiss. Clumsy Ren. They both giggle nervously and False feels like she’s walking on air— her mouth upturns into one of those helpless smiles, and it only spreads further when his lips meet hers, just as wide, just as happy.
She doesn’t know if they’re supposed to be happy while kissing. Obviously it’s supposed to be an associated emotion—but it’s not the first thought she would have conjured in her mind theories about it. It’s good that it’s happy.
The first kiss is short and sweet, smiling, happy. Ren leans back, and when she opens her eyes his lips are pressed thinly together, an obvious attempt at trying to look less challant than he is. It’s adorable.
“Are you satisfied with that answer, Madam?” He asks. It’s dorky, it’s cute. Oh bother, False thinks he’s cute . His hands fall back to his side, and the lack of contact leaves a bigger imprint on her than she’d like to admit.
Falses pulse begins to quicken. There’s two answers to this; Yes — and they go back to being neighbours, and False just knows how it is to kiss him, like all his other friends. Or No — and she has to ask him to do it again. Both are terrible options, but False had already considered the chances of this happening going into this— and she can learn to be humble enough so she can get what she really wants.
They’ve been neighbours for years, friends for longer. Now they’ve kissed, now she knows. Rens looking at her patiently (he’s always patient when it comes to her). Rens looking at her expectantly. They both know what the outcomes are— He’ll take either one gracefully, but she knows the one he favours. The one she favours. It’s obvious, it’s been said.
“Kissing you would kill me.”
“ Not knowing what I'm missing out on is going to kill me.”
They know now, and there’s only one option that is going to make them not miserable. Lucky for False, it’ll probably make them both happy. Her stomach churns, her voice shakes a bit, amusement cracking through.
“No.” She chirps blithely. “I think we botched the beginning a bit. Bad run.”
Ren blinks, blushes. “Are you saying you want me to kiss you again?”
False shrugs “That’s maybe one of your better ideas.”
He stands up and clutches his chest like he’s been shot with an arrow, he pretends to stumble back clambering against the stairs rail. She giggles, he was ever the dramatic, ever so Ren . “How you hurt me so Falsie— what about my lore? Are they not good ideas?”
“Some of your ideas aren’t bad— I’m just saying this one’s better.” She stands up, and steps down towards him.
He straightens his posture, he’s not too much taller than she is.
“Punch me?”
“Gladly.” Without a second thought she socks his arm playfully. Ren instantly retreats with a chuckle, rubbing his arm.
“Okay just making sure this is real.”
False raises her eyebrows teasingly. “What’s that supposed to mean, what’s happening in your dreams Ren?”
He rolls his eyes and this time, steps forward; boots tapping on the brown stained glass. He lets his hands rest on her waist tentatively. When she doesn’t attempt to squirm (because she’s curious to be frank, and curiosity won’t kill her) he pulls her toward him.
False stumbles a little, and her hands land clunky on his shoulders, a bit awkwardly, a bit clumsy. She recollects herself for a moment, adjusting her balance, stretching her hands so they wrap around his neck instead. Ren's hands are now at her hips. It probably looks awfully romantic, False still feels a little out of place until she looks him in the eyes. Like she’s playing a part in a movie.
“Want me to show you a good idea?”
False cocks her head to the side. “Go ahead.” She taunts.
Ren grins, and then again, his lips meet hers softly. He’s so gentle, too gentle and a hand reaches into her hair, brushing loose strands from her forehead. It’s a miracle he can do it without poking either of their eyes out when he’s not even looking. The smell of his shampoo is becoming terribly familiar to her, along with the taste of vanilla chapstick and hair tickling her cheek. False absentmindedly wonders if she should spare a moment to brush his hair away too— but then she steps forward a bit and nearly presses on his toes and decides she’s not made for that type of coordination, not yet.
Besides, in a moment or so Rens already tucked back his own hair, and all that’s left is his scratchy stubble that is more pleasant of a feeling than she thought it would be. Though maybe everything is more pleasant when she’s kissing Ren. She’s still smiling and he’s still smiling, and whatever tension that was fizzing in the room before seems to be popping into bubbles of giddiness. Her stomach is floating into her chest.
After, (well, False doesn’t know the exact time because she hadn’t really thought about that) what she would consider a reasonable time for kissing someone Ren parts back again and is smiling like he’s won the whole world. And to be fair, she’s smiling probably just as stupidly right back. That’s what kissing does to someone she supposes.
His hand is resting on top of hers around his neck, he’s stroking it softly. The other is still resting on her hips. He’s looking at her so fondly it’s almost unbearable, but for whatever it’s worth, she doesn’t squirm, doesn’t back away. It’s safe, he’s safe, she’s safe.
“Do you always feel that happy when you kiss someone?” She blurts out, breaking the silence.
“Happy?” Ren cocks his head to the side, and he’s suppressing another one of those stupid, knowing grins again. “Sometimes it does with some people, with others you don’t“
“Then what’s the point of kissing if it doesn’t always feel like that?”
“Sometimes it’s just for the bit, or to say goodbye, hello— it really depends on the person. It’s quite like a hug.”
“So you don’t feel that happy when you’re kissing Martyn?”
“Martyn? Who said I was kissing Martyn?” He looks around like there’s going to be some third party to blame it on, but there’s nothing other than her mismatch of trapped hostile mobs in the other room. Falses arms slip from his neck. Ren's arms fall back and he combs through his hair awkwardly.
The realisation seems to hit both of them at the same time. They’ve kissed twice now, on purpose, for real. The world didn’t explode. And now it’s up to Ren to decide; is he going to make another exception for her? Is it more than platonic, does it mean more than when he kisses his other friends?
It’s selfish, it’s greedy; but his favouritism, she’s sure, isn’t for nothing.
“Look I don’t know how you’re feeling right now, but to me Falsie, those were the best friendship kisses I’ve ever had.”
She blinks and her heart both sinks and soars (Ren is getting good at doing that to her). Sobering her thoughts with a dump load of icy water. Squashing whatever tender warmth that was there only a moment ago (Is it self preservation? Or is she just not being obvious enough?) (How do you even say that after all this time of feigning nothing but disinterest in the subject, that you might want more of this?)
False is his best friendship kiss, but his best friendship kiss. She shakes her head at herself shamefully. That’s a good thing. They’re still friends, they’re still neighbours, they don’t have to worry. Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed.
“Right.”
“Is that weird? Am I being weird? You can punch me.” He offers.
She doesn’t meet his eyes. “So you’ve had better romantic ones?”
Ren flushes for the umpteenth time. False is sure she’s seen him more pink than any other colour today. It suits him. Just like how his base suits the pink in its pallet. It’s a colour False is glad she’s bringing out in him. She has that effect on him.
“That’s private information.” He turns away.
False pouts. “But Rennnnn it’s for science !”
“No—nope. I’m not saying.” He shakes his head vehemently at her.
“What if I gave you a kiss?”
Ren seems to perk up at that subconsciously. And then he shakes his head again, both at her and seemingly himself. “That sounds like a bribe.”
She shrugs. “I’m a woman of great curiosity. “
He jabs a finger in the air at her, wagging it crossly. “More like too nosy for your own good.”
False feigns offence with a scoff. “I’m not nosy— I offered to pay you.”
“Well then I have a question, Falsie.”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you ever like-liked someone?”
She snorts. “What are we, ten?”
“It’s a serious question.” He deadpans, and False wants to laugh. To be fair, it’s not something she’s ever talked about, ever hinted at. It’s good of him to not assume. And it’s utterly Ren-like of him to not have picked up on literally anything she's been doing lately.
“And you’ll answer mine if I do?”
“A question for a question.” He nods.
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “It’s confusing sometimes— what’s what, and what’s supposed to feel like what and sometimes it feels like we might just be friends and sometimes it’s not.”
“Well that’s a clear answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
He smiles. “I know.” He steps towards her. “So you might like someone?”
She taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “I dunno Ren, that sounds like two questions.”
Ren frowns “oh dangit — you’re right.”
“As always.” She hums in amusement. “So then— am I the best kisser you’ve ever met or?”
“Ah, I didn’t say best kisser— you’re just my best kiss.”
“Am I actually bad at it?” She runs her fingers through her hair, nervously. Surely she wasn’t awful, she let him take the lead— so it’s his fault if she actually is.
“You don’t have practice so I forgive you.”
“Ren!” She whines. She wants to punch him.
He smiles. He’s lying. “False.”
“But I am your best kiss?” She tucks her hands behind her back and steps towards him again. He doesn’t move back.
“By far.”
“Why?”
His eyes fall back to the floor, studying its dark oak grain, he twists his foot into it nervously. “Because you’re you. “
She punches him, again, Ren yelps. And she wanders back to the stairs rolling her eyes as she mutters to herself.
“What a terribly undescriptive answer, science is losing valuable knowledge with your lack of descriptiveness Ren.”
He chuckles chasing after her. “It’s because you mean a lot to me, Falsie. So it means something, even if it’s not reciprocated.”
“What’s not reciprocated?”
“I think you know.”
“I don’t.” She smiles mimicking his hands on the chin pose from the beginning of their conversation. Back when they hadn’t kissed before. Blimey that feels like a century ago.
Ren groans in frustration. “Haven’t I made it terribly obvious?”
“I’m a pretty unobservant person, Ren.”
“Liar. You just want me to say it.” He leans down towards her.
False smiles, she leans forward, if she went any further their noses might have bumped together again. “Maybe.”
Ren sighs, “Falsie?” He asks tentatively, he crouches at the bottom of the staircase so he’s properly at eye level with her. False wants to smile, he’s literally grovelling at her feet, on his knees and it takes all the energy in her to not stretch out her hand and pat his head.
She answers, she always will. “ Ren .”
He stretches out his hands, and somehow she knows, she knows to give hers to him. His palms are a bit rough, and sweaty, which makes sense because he’s a builder (and he’s always sweaty around her allegedly). She knows her hands are just as calloused. She’s glad that doesn’t matter, she’s glad he still looks at her softly, and longingly and gently— even when False is anything but that at times.
And she’s caught him, a thousand times before, looking at her like that. Between ravines, and rivers— over campfires, competitions and sleepless sleepovers. Most times she will brush it off; because there is no response she can give that would be equal to that. But if she’s learnt anything in the past few days, few months, few years (it's more than that)— all the time she’s known Ren. It’s that no one out beats him in the game of longing, of yearning. It’s physically impossible to love as much as he does. And she’d rather at least try to give him half of the love he deserves than just leave him out to dry. She already hears him complain enough about his disastrous love life, maybe she can shut him up for once, maybe she can fix that.
“I know you, and I have for a long time. And for just as long as that, I’ve liked you. As my friend, my neighbour. Whatever this is.” He gestures vaguely between them and she giggles. “And I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while but I think we both know this is more than that.”
“Is it now Ren?” She teases, and lets go of one of his hands to tuck an offending strand of hair behind his ear. It’s probably the one that was tickling her cheek before. He glances across where her fingers grazed over, stares at it for a moment before he takes her hand back, and beams right back at her.
“Yes.” He knows now. It’s probably obvious. “I don’t know whether you noticed but I have an enormous crush on you.”
“Do you?” She muses.
“Have for a while.” He chuckles. “Probably talked Cleos ear off about it.”
“That makes two of us.” She snorts.
Ren blinks. “You have a crush on me ?”
He sounds so bewildered by the concept it’s almost upsetting. He’s handsome, he can sing well, play the guitar. He’s a talented builder, a great storyteller, an amusing neighbour, and a good friend. He’s entirely likeable, it'd be more surprising if she didn’t.
And for pete’s sake, she’s been practically throwing herself over him for the last couple of months. Surely he can see that in hindsight?
“I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me for weeks now.”
Ren presses his lips thinly together, she can tell he’s trying to defend his feelings. “…As friends?”
“At first maybe but It meant something.” She coughs. “To me at least. More than friendship.”
He’s looking at her more intensely now, she can feel through his wrist that his pulse is racing. “Are you sure?”
False raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to triple check or something?”
He reaches back to comb through his hair, his eyes dart around. “Erm, I wouldn’t be opposed . For both of our sakes of course. Got to make sure we know.”
False giggles, and grabs his face. He wobbles a bit as he leans over her, planting his arms on the stairs to make sure he doesn’t fall on her. And she kisses him, not as chaste as the first time, not as long as the second. It’s a confirmation kiss, it’s letting him know it’s real and she wants this just as much as he does. Whatever this is.
They part, he rests his forehead against hers. “Does it really mean something?”
Without hesitation, without falter she replies. “Definitely.”