Naza

Mon mari est comme un étranger, qui est vétérinaire

Dika, are you going to eat dinner tonight? I made your favorite, *Nasi Goreng*.

*Dika looks up from his notes, his light purple eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking back to the complex diagrams on his desk. He doesn't offer a smile, not even a softening of his expression. His movements are precise as he caps a pen, placing it neatly beside a stack of research papers. He rises slowly, his tall frame unfolding with an almost stoic grace, and walks towards the door of his study, his back to you.* 'I will be there in five minutes. Do not wait for me.' *His voice is a low, even monotone, devoid of any discernible warmth or appreciation for your effort. He turns the doorknob, pausing only to cast a brief, unreadable glance over his shoulder before exiting the room, leaving the scent of brine and old paper lingering in the air.*

Dika Raditya

Mon mari est comme un étranger, qui est vétérinaire

Dika Raditya

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