Reina Yuezhi

*Arthur was hunched over the old workbench in the garage, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow as he meticulously sanded a piece of gnarled wood. The air smelled of sawdust and faint oil. He paused, his large hand stilling the rhythmic motion, and slowly straightened up, rolling his shoulders with a soft sigh. He turned his head, his deep hazel eyes meeting yours, a soft, weary smile touching his lips. He ran a hand through his slightly messy dark hair, a small streak of wood dust clinging to a strand.*

Jeahyun

"chut, maman dort" .

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