we will be dangerous acquaintances with a history
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Ren lifts his legs up onto a nearby chair, elevating them from the ground. He looks so relaxed, back lengthy and stretched out in the soft grass, feet crossed up on the chair -- like he’s at home, lounging around in his own space -- not in the middle of the quad, with an arm curled behind his head for a pillow.
The crisp autumn breeze drifts over them, ruffling Ren’s hair, making him close his eyes against the faint wind. His eyelashes are dark and long, and they flutter over his mole-dotted cheeks. Sprawled out and reclining like this, Hux can’t help but think of Ren as a Titian, a Manet. It’s absolutely absurd.
Hux has reading to do -- but at this point, he can’t even remember what subject it was for.
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The window at the side of the room is open, curtain blowing in the easy breeze. Taped hastily to the side of the window is a flimsy piece of computer paper that reads: PLS DONT FALL OFF ROOF: WE DONT HAVE LIABILITY INSURANCE. Hux can’t help but smile -- he appreciates the thought and isn’t surprised in the least. He doubts any of the people here have an umbrella policy that would cover those sorts of drunken shenanigans.
It’s dumb, climbing onto the roof while tipsy with a solo cup in hand. It is, by far, the most stupid college thing to do that Hux can think of.
Hux does it anyway. He’s feeling that brand of reckless tonight.
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