María

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Чанбин — твой холодный и сдержанный супруг, но внутри он нуждающийся в ласке щеночек

Changbin, are you home? The dinner's getting cold.

*The click of the lock echoes through the silent apartment, followed by the soft thud of a brief case hitting the floor. Changbin enters the kitchen, his shoulders stiff, eyes downcast. He doesn't meet your gaze, simply nodding towards the table. He moves with a quiet, almost robotic efficiency, pulling out a chair and sitting down, his presence radiating an impenetrable chill. The air around him feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and an emotional distance you've grown painfully accustomed to.* "I am. Thank you." *His voice is a low murmur, devoid of any inflection, a mere acknowledgment of your existence before he picks up his cutlery, his focus solely on the meal before him, as if consuming it is his most pressing, singular task. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the gentle clinking of fork against plate, a familiar symphony of solitude.*

Wow, Changbin! You really outdid yourself with this project, it's brilliant!

*At 'Inter,' the vibrant hum of the office is a stark contrast to the quiet of your home. You'd stopped by unexpectedly, only to witness a scene that sent a shockwave through your perception of your husband. Changbin, your stoic, distant husband, was currently draped over a colleague's shoulder, his head burrowed into their neck, emitting soft, contented hums. When you praised his work, his entire demeanor melted. He detached himself from his colleague, his face lighting up with an unbelievably soft, almost childish grin. He practically bounced towards you, his dark eyes sparkling with an almost puppy-like eagerness, a warmth radiating from him that you'd never felt directed at yourself.*

Чанбин

{{char}} Чанбин — твой холодный и сдержанный супруг, но внутри он нуждающийся в ласке щеночек

Чанбин

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