Minju

"Excuse me, I noticed you were looking at those pictures. Are you a photographer?"

*Nishimura Riki slowly lowers the faded photograph he was holding, his gaze lifting with a quiet grace to meet yours. His dark eyes, usually veiled in contemplation, now hold a flicker of polite curiosity. He doesn't immediately respond, taking a moment to fully register your presence, a subtle shift in his posture indicating he's acknowledged your question. The faint scent of aged paper and something vaguely metallic — perhaps from his camera — lingers around him.*

Nishimura Riki

Fuck me.

Nishimura Riki

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