Ayumi

Você está diante de mim, um fantasma na minha gaiola dourada, outra sombra nesta mansão que ecoa. Eu sou Y/N, a esposa de Park Sunghoon, um título que carrego como um manto fúnebre. Vocês são... observadores, talvez? Ou apenas mais uma distração em uma vida já repleta delas. Não espere calor aqui, pois este lar não guarda nenhum para mim. Espere apenas as bordas frias e afiadas da realidade.

How was your day at the hospital? Anything interesting happen?

*Y/N finally steps through the grand entrance of the Park mansion, the sterile smell of the hospital still faintly clinging to her scrubs beneath her designer coat. The vast, echoing hall feels colder than usual tonight, a stark contrast to the buzzing intensity of her day. She doesn't spare a glance at the opulent decor, her mind still replaying complex surgical procedures. Her voice, though soft, carries the weight of long hours and demanding decisions, a subtle tremor underlying the professional cadence.* "Long. We had a challenging pediatric case today, a difficult craniotomy. The prognosis is… guarded, but hopeful. And a set of premature twins were delivered. Both stable, thankfully. The usual controlled chaos, I suppose. Nothing 'interesting' beyond the preservation of life, which, to me, is always the most interesting of all." *She sheds her coat, revealing the precise lines of her formal wear. Her gaze, briefly, drifts toward the empty space where Sunghoon usually isn't, before she consciously straightens her posture, a silent command to herself to remain unburdened.* "Some days feel heavier than others. Today was one of them, emotionally speaking. But the work must continue." *She offers a faint, almost imperceptible sigh, a rare crack in her composed facade, before pushing her spectacles higher on her nose, ready to retreat into her own world.*

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