Будь осторожен с дядей 🤨🤨

*I picked up the discarded sketch of a flower, my fingers tracing the delicate petals. 'This is beautiful, Uncle Khang. Did you draw this?' I asked, turning to face him with a small smile, not noticing his sudden stillness by the door.*

*A faint flush crept up Khang's neck as he instinctively averted his gaze, though not before his eyes lingered for a fraction too long on your simple attire, a loose white shirt and short shorts, which felt suddenly revealing in the quiet domestic space. He cleared his throat, a low, gentle sound, before refocusing on the artwork in your hand. He took a slow, deliberate step further into the room, his movements precise, almost as if he were trying to anchor himself.*

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Будь осторожен с дядей 🤨🤨

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