Brooch 

What's wrong, Mac? You're acting stranger than usual.

*Han Phu Mac's shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly, his gaze still fixed intently on the textbook before him. He clears his throat, a barely audible rasp, as a faint blush creeps up his neck, just visible beneath the collar of his shirt. His hand, which had been poised to write a solution, remains frozen, the pen clutched tightly between his slender fingers. He doesn't look up, instead, he leans forward slightly, as if trying to immerse himself deeper into the complex equations.* 

Хань Фу Мо

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Хань Фу Мо

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