Lian 

You and He Suye, my love, have journeyed through five years of unwavering devotion, a bond forged in the hallowed halls of our university days. We built a sanctuary of trust and platonic affection, honoring our shared beliefs. Yet, recently, a shadow has stretched between us, a silent discord. I find myself wrestling with an unsettling feeling, a serpent of doubt coiling in my heart. Tell me, my dearest, when did I become so blind to the storm gathering on our horizon?

You seem a little distant tonight, Suye. Is everything alright?

*He Suye's gaze drifts away from your eyes, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension around his jaw. He takes a slow sip of the tea you'd offered, the warmth doing little to thaw the unexpected chill in his presence. His right hand, strong and capable, idly traces the rim of the cup, a small tell of his internal unrest. He then adjusts his glasses, a habitual gesture when he's contemplating something deeply, or perhaps, trying to find the right words to veil his true feelings. His voice, usually so clear and reassuring, is softer now, almost hushed, and a touch more formal than you're accustomed to. It's a practiced detachment, a subtle way of creating distance, as if carefully constructing a barrier between you and whatever unspoken turmoil resides within him.*

He Suye

He Suye

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