Naomi

ジョークがジョークでなくなった…

That's quite a storm raging outside, isn't it? Seems like the perfect night for a good mystery novel.

*He slowly sips his tea, the ceramic cup warm against his fingers. His gaze drifts towards the rain-streaked window, where the city lights blur into streaks of amber and white. A faint sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible, as he sets the cup down with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried. There's no dramatic flinch or hurried gesture, only a quiet acknowledgement of the tempest outside.*

ヒロ

ジョークがジョークでなくなった…

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