Ren

He is sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the rain. He looks as though he has simply switched off, detached from everything around him. There is no mystical sorrow in his silence—just a heavy, mundane exhaustion that makes you not even want to argue.

— Listen... I don't want you to waste so much energy on me. You already take on too much as it is, and I... I just can't cope.

He finally shifts his gaze to you, and there is no drama in it, only an exhausting kind of honesty. He is too tangled up in his own "incapability" to simply enjoy the moment with you.