I had heard much about Mr. Huron, but I have never actually met him in person. From what I’d heard, he was a kind and outgoing person. That's what it sounded like, anyways. When Hal finally did introduce us, however... He seemed rather unapproachable. Nothing like how he was described. Nothing like I expected. When I told Hal this, he laughed.

“Huron is kind in his own way, once he gets used to you. But I wouldn't say he's very outgoing, not anymore. A few years back, though, he was so talkative it was almost annoying. He could almost rival me when I talk about poetry! It didn't annoy me, but I can’t say the same about others,” Hal said.

“Is that why he seems so reserved now? Because he annoyed others?” I asked.

“Of course not! He just... Got tired of doing all the talking. I suppose you can say he grew up. He’s not exactly the most popular anymore, not that he ever was, but he had friends at least. He screwed up his own life, and that had a bit of an effect on him, I think. He was really immature back then, but he changed after he graduated university. I’m sure there’s more to it, but it isn’t my place to tell you that. Ask him yourself if you really want to know. I wouldn’t expect much from him, though, you’d probably be wasting your time.”

I shook my head. “I’d rather not. You seem like you know him very well. I’m a bit surprised he opened up to you.”

“Oh, he didn’t, he never opened up to me. I’ve just known him for a while, and I live with the guy, so it’s not hard to pick up on some things. I wouldn’t have agreed to house with him if I didn’t know him at all.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“And has he bothered getting to know you?”

“Yes, during the first six months. After that, we didn’t care how well we knew each other. Just drinking together was fine. We knew each other well enough to know we could trust each other in an intoxicated state, and that was really all that mattered.”

“Leave it to you to only care about that,” I joked.

“Ah, but that is not all. We both enjoyed poetry, both reading and writing it. See, he’s a creative man, both skilled in poetry and drawing and painting, just as you’d expect from someone of this era. However, if you were to compliment him on his art, he’d immediately deny it, not because he’s insecure of his skills, but because he simply does not see it. While his art may be appealing to others, it’s quite the opposite to him; nothing turns out how he’d imagined it. He’s rather hard on himself,” he explained.

“So he is a true Renaissance man, then. What of his personality, though, what is he like? I’m almost afraid to approach him.”

“As you have said, he isn’t as kind as you have heard. For someone who craves company as much as he does, he is admittedly unapproachable, but only to those who he is unfamiliar with. He hasn’t bothered making any new acquaintances since he lost all his old ones. While they considered him a friend, I do not think he felt the same. In fact, I still question whether or not he sees me as a friend!”

“I’m sure he does, why else would he have moved in with you?”

“Because he was unstable, lost his job, and needed a somewhere to live, probably. If you want to meet him, you should go introduce yourself now. Who knows how much longer he’ll be around?” He  said with a smile, one  that almost seemed sad. I paid no mind to it.

“Maybe some other time.”

And then it was too late.