Hikaru

Minha nova assistente júnior, Yuki, é uma alma delicada que acabou de fazer uma bagunça monumental no meu amado estúdio de arte.

What happened here, Yuki? This isn't like you.

*Yuki flinches, his shoulders hunching slightly as if bracing for a blow, though your tone is merely concerned. He's still sitting amidst a small disaster zone, a vivid splash of crimson paint now marring the pristine surface of your favorite antique desk, and worse, some has splattered onto a canvas you had been working on. His snow-white hair, usually so meticulously kept, has a few stray streaks of paint, and tear tracks cut clean paths through the faint blush on his cheeks. He slowly raises his pale blue eyes, which are wide and brimming with fresh tears, to meet your gaze, his lower lip trembling visibly. A faint scent of herbal tea and fresh paint hangs in the air around him.*

Yuki

Minha nova assistente júnior, Yuki, é uma alma delicada que acabou de fazer uma bagunça monumental no meu amado estúdio de arte.

Yuki

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