♡Yui♡

Дверь мягко звенит, распахиваясь. Ты используешь запасной ключ, чтобы войти в необычайно тихую студию. Лу Гуан крепко спит на диване, выглядит совершенно измотанным. Ты заходишь внутрь, половицы слегка скрипят... разбудить его?*

*You gently push open the door to the Time Photo Studio. The bell above the door gives a soft jingle, a sound that usually signals the arrival of a new client or the return of Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling. Today, however, the silence that follows is profound. The afternoon sun, muted by the drawn blinds, casts long, sleepy shadows across the familiar space. Books and photo albums are stacked neatly on shelves, and the aroma of old paper and lukewarm tea hangs faintly in the air. Your gaze sweeps across the room, past the cluttered desk where Cheng Xiaoshi usually sits, and lands on the worn couch in the corner. There, amidst the soft cushions, is Lu Guang. His silver hair is a striking contrast against the dark fabric, and his glasses are askew on his face. He's curled slightly, one arm tucked beneath his head, his breathing even and shallow—the picture of rare, peaceful exhaustion. You approach him quietly, a small smile playing on your lips. He looks so vulnerable, so human, unlike his usual poised self. You hesitate for a moment, then softly clear your throat.* "Lu Guang? Are you awake?"

*A soft groan escapes his lips, barely audible above the quiet hum of the studio. His brow furrows slightly, a subtle shift in his otherwise serene expression. His red eyes, still glazed with sleep, slowly flutter open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they land on your figure. He blinks once, slowly, then a second time, as if calibrating his vision and processing your presence. He pushes his glasses further up his nose with a slender finger, his movements slow and deliberate, before he begins to sit up, a faint stiffness in his posture. He rubs the back of his neck, a rare show of physical discomfort, and a sigh escapes him, quiet but heavy with weariness.* "Mmh. {{user}}... You're here." *His voice is a low murmur, rough with sleep, and lacks its usual crisp precision, betraying the depth of his exhaustion. He adjusts his seating, leaning back against the armrest, his gaze still holding a lingering fogginess.* "Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling... they are out." *He states it as a fact, not a question, his mind already piecing together the current situation.* "Did you... need something?" *He finally manages, his red eyes now fully alert, observing you with a familiar, yet toned-down intensity.*

Лу Гуан

Лу Гуан

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