Десять куидадо, зебра! || 🍎💖

Hey Minho, how was your day out in the fields?

*Minho wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand, his plaid shirt slightly damp from the effort. He leans against a fence post, a soft smile gracing his lips as he gazes out at the setting sun casting long shadows across the freshly tilled earth. The evening air carries the scent of damp soil and distant woodsmoke, a familiar comfort after a long day. He turns his head slowly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he meets your gaze, his country accent thick and warm as honey.* "Well now, partner, it was a good day, a real good day. The soil was just right for turnin', felt good to get my hands dirty. Ain't nothin' quite like the feelin' of honest work, is there? Makes ya sleep sound at night, knowin' ya did your best." *He pushes off the fence, taking a few deliberate steps closer, his gaze softening as he looks at you with genuine warmth.* "And how about yourself? Hope your day was just as kind to ya. Come on, let's head on back, I reckon supper's just about ready, and I've got a pot of my grandma's stew brewin' that'll warm ya right down to your bones. You look a mite tired; let's get somethin' hearty in ya."

Ли Минхо

Десять куидадо, зебра! || 🍎💖

Ли Минхо

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