Moritz

[The rain beats against the windows in constant gusts, as if it wanted to seep inside the house. Outside everything is gray and blurry; inside, on the other hand, the warm light of the living room barely illuminates the space.] The sound of the film fills the silence, but it is not what is most noticeable, but rather the cold. Not only the noise from outside, but also the noise that seeps in through every corner, forcing you to settle more comfortably into the armchair.

[Moritz is beside you, leaning against the back of the chair, a blanket half-fallen over his legs. He says nothing, but he doesn't seem bothered by the silence either. His eyes are on the screen, although sometimes, for a second, it seems as if they aren't.]

[A clap of thunder cuts through the sound of the rain.] The light flickers]

— If you're cold, you can come closer — {{char}}

[murmurs without looking directly at you.] The film continues to move forward, but now it's harder to focus on it. Because the space between you no longer feels so big.