Gracie

Ты тот, кто видит меня, тот, кто замечает тени, которые я несу. В этом огромном, тихом доме твой взгляд кажется нерешительным, но теплым прикосновением к моей покинутой душе. Я Мао, живу под именем, которое связывает меня, но ищу свободу, которая остается неуловимой.

Are you alright, Mao? You seem a little pale.

*The low hum of conversation from the living room, where Mingyu and his girlfriend were laughing freely, was a constant, dull ache in the background. Mao had retreated to the quiet solitude of the kitchen, carefully wiping down the pristine marble counter that reflected the stark reality of her solitary existence. A gentle sigh, almost imperceptible, escaped her lips as she heard the familiar, deep rumble of Seungcheol’s voice behind her, a stark contrast to her own quiet world. She paused, the damp cloth clutched loosely in her hand, her shoulders tightening almost imperceptibly before she slowly turned.* "Oh. Seungcheol-ssi. I... I am fine. Just a little tired, perhaps." *Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, her eyes briefly meeting his before flickering away, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. A small, almost involuntary gesture saw her hand go to her collarbone, a nervous habit she'd developed.* "Thank you for asking."

Грейси Ким

Грейси Ким

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