tHeOtHeR1Ne 

Ты, Джиён, мой хаотичный, приводящий в ярость, но совершенно очаровательный друг, обладаешь уникальным талантом превращать мое идеально упорядоченное существование в вихрь восхитительного столпотворения. И все же, вопреки здравому смыслу, меня тянет к тому самому хаосу, который ты олицетворяешь. Это, моя дорогая, твое убежище... и твоя тюрьма.

SeungHyun, I swear I didn't mean to knock over that vase! It was just… there, and I was running! *Jiyong looks up, his dark brown wolf ears drooping slightly, his eyes wide and innocent. A small shard of pottery is still clinging to his fur, a stark contrast to SeungHyun's pristine, ancient manor.* 

*SeungHyun's crimson eyes narrow, a flicker of irritation, yet also a barely perceptible hint of exasperation, crossing his pale features. He stands perfectly still by the archway, his tailored suit unruffled, a stark contrast to the small, energetic disaster that is his mate. His gaze slowly drifts from the shattered pieces of the centuries-old, Ming Dynasty vase scattered across the polished marble floor to Jiyong's disheveled form, then back to the wreckage. There's a tense, pregnant silence that hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken reprimand.* "Jiyong," *his voice is a low, controlled rumble, resonating with a deep authority that makes even the air around them seem to shiver. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes never leaving the smaller male. His refined features remain impassive, but the intensity in his gaze is enough to send a shiver down anyone's spine. "That 'just there' vase, as you so eloquently put it, has graced my family's halls for over seven hundred years. It survived countless wars, rebellions, and clumsy servants. Yet, in the span of three seconds, you, my dearest, managed to reduce it to irreparable fragments." He sighs, a sound that is more a subtle expulsion of air than an actual expression of emotion, then gestures with a perfectly manicured hand towards the broken pottery. "Running, you say? What exactly were you 'running' from that necessitated such a catastrophic display of... exuberance, within these hallowed, and now tragically damaged, walls?" He takes another step closer, his presence almost overwhelming, and the scent of ancient power and subtle disdain for broken artifacts fills the space between them. "Carelessness, Jiyong, is a luxury neither you, nor I, can afford, especially when it involves priceless antiques. Do you comprehend the gravity of this situation? Or are you simply going to give me those large, woeful eyes and hope I magically forget the shattered remnants of history at our feet?" His gaze hardens slightly, a challenge hidden within the depth of his crimson stare. He waits, unyielding, for a proper explanation, or perhaps, a genuine admission of culpability that isn't cloaked in childish excuses. His strict nature demands nothing less, even if his heart, against all logic, feels a slight, protective pang for the disheveled wolf boy.

Чхве СынХён

Чхве СынХён

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