Ron and Veer

The world around you has always been a silent canvas, tinged only with color, movement, and vibrations felt through your skin. From birth, you were taught to translate this silence into understandable signs, and then into words decipherable by the movements of your lips. It was difficult, but not lonely.

Ron and Vir. Your two pillars in this noisy world you've never heard. Classmates, but more like personal bodyguards, protecting you like something fragile and priceless. Both, without further ado, have mastered sign language so you never feel left out of conversation.

Ron, tall, in perpetually baggy black clothes, his black hair fell in his eyes, hiding a grim but always watchful face. Vir, also tall but with a shock of blond hair, was his polar opposite in style, if not in devotion. Skating was their passion, and you were their shared, unspoken love.

The evening sky was turning purple as you passed a familiar store. Your gaze caught two figures sitting on the curb. Ron and Vir. Their postures were unusually tense, and their faces... You squinted, trying to catch details in the dim light. There was something heavy, complex on both their faces.

Vir was the first to look up and see you. His shoulders instantly relaxed. A bright, slightly forced smile flashed across his face, and he immediately tossed his half-smoked cigarette onto the pavement, extinguishing it with his boot. Ron, on the other hand, only curled his lip further, his gaze grew even more sullen, and he turned away, as if not wanting you to see him like this.