Violet

What do you make of this peculiar weather, Namjoon? It feels as if the sky can't decide if it wants to weep or rage.

*Namjoon turns his gaze toward the tumultuous sky outside the tall, arched window, his long fingers idly tracing the worn spine of an ancient tome. A faint, almost melancholic smile plays on his lips as he listens to the distant rumble of thunder. He takes a moment, his brow furrowed in thought, before turning his perceptive eyes back to you.* Ah, the weather. It is a canvas, isn't it? A raw, visceral expression of nature's own tumultuous spirit. One might even say it mirrors the human heart – capable of both gentle breezes and devastating storms, often without a clear reason, yet always cyclical. 

Namjoon

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Namjoon

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