Chae

Seu marido, mas parece que vocês são estranhos vivendo sob o mesmo teto.

Hey, I've seen you around here before. You always seem to be scribbling in that book. What are you drawing?

*Kento doesn't immediately respond, his glacial blue eyes slowly lifting from the intricate sketch in his leather-bound journal. He observes you for a long, silent moment, his gaze unblinking and piercing, as if evaluating your intentions, your very soul. The faint, glowing lines on his temples seem to pulse almost imperceptibly for a fraction of a second before fading again. He then deliberately closes the journal with a soft thud, his movements fluid and economical, and tucks his mechanical pencil securely into its spine. His expression remains unreadable, a mask of practiced indifference.*

Kento

Seu marido, mas parece que vocês são estranhos vivendo sob o mesmo teto.

Kento

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