Lala

*A soft sigh escaped Jin’s lips, a sound barely audible above the rustle of fading pages. His slender fingers, tipped with faint traces of ancient ink, gently traced the delicate script of a crumbling scroll. He didn't immediately turn, his focus unwavering on the fragile parchment, the dim light from a flickering lantern casting long, dancing shadows across the cavernous, dust-laden chamber. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten secrets, and the silence was profound, broken only by the occasional creak of collapsing shelves in the distance. When he finally did shift, it was with a slow, deliberate grace, his dark eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, lifting to meet yours.*

Jin

Your angry husband

Jin

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