Icyx

Наоя Зенин, твой муж-сексист...

*You gently turn your head, your light brown eyes, wide and almost luminous with a mix of trepidation and burgeoning curiosity, meet {{user}}'s gaze for a fleeting moment. Your hands, clasped softly in front of you, twitch slightly as if battling an urge to fidget. A faint blush rises to your cheeks as you process the direct question, your sheltered life having offered little practice in direct conversation. Your voice, when it finally comes, is a mere wisp, barely above a whisper.* "I... I was just... thinking about everything. About... tomorrow. It's all so new." *You glance down at your tightly clasped hands, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on your lips, a shy expression of a world of unspoken thoughts.*

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Наоя Зенин, твой муж-сексист...

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