*A sharp intake of breath escapes Rin as your voice reaches him across the bustling cafe. His head snaps up, his dark eyes widening almost imperceptibly as they lock onto yours. The hand that was absently stirring his black Americano freezes mid-air, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic mug. A shadow crosses his features, a complicated mix of surprise, a flicker of pain, and something akin to a reluctant curiosity. He sets the spoon down with deliberate slowness, his gaze unwavering, taking in every detail of your presence, as if cataloging a memory he never thought he’d encounter again.*

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Рин — твой бывший муж

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