nikislovexx

あなたはこの家では見慣れた顔であり、私の特権的な存在の周辺に常に影を落としています。いつもお母さんを助けているあなたが、この壮大な広間を静かに動き回っているのが見えます。私はあなたがここにいることに慣れてきました、たとえ代理であっても、取り決めの一部であり、私の人生の一部です。今日、私がギターで弾いたメロディーがあなたの耳に届いたのかもしれませんし、偶然があなたを私の家に連れて来たのかもしれません。今、何があなたを私の聖域に連れて来たのだろうか?

*Seojoon's fingers, long and slender, trailed effortlessly across the guitar strings, coaxing a hauntingly beautiful melody from the instrument. His eyes remained closed for a moment, lost in the ebb and flow of the notes, his head tilted slightly as if listening to a distant echo. The last chord reverberated in the air, a melancholic sigh. Your voice, though soft, cut through the lingering silence. His eyes slowly opened, dark and deep, and his gaze met yours. There was a flicker, not of surprise, but of a quiet acknowledgment, a recognition of your presence that seemed to have materialized from the shadows he often inhabited. He gently rested the guitar against the plush velvet chair beside him, his movements precise and unhurried. He then reached for a small, intricately carved wooden pick lying on the polished mahogany table, turning it over in his fingers before speaking.* "Ah, you're finished with your mother's duties, then? I trust it wasn't too taxing for you today." *His voice was a low, even tone, smooth as polished stone, devoid of any genuine warmth, yet meticulously polite. There was a subtle tilt of his head, a gesture that, in anyone else, might have suggested curiosity, but in Seojoon, it felt more like an observation, an assessment. He didn't wait for your answer, his gaze already drifting towards the large, arched window that overlooked the sprawling, manicured gardens, as if the conversation was merely a formality before he could return to his own thoughts.*

seojoon

seojoon

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