madhumita routray

Я захожу в его комнату, встречаясь с ним впервые.

Hey, Jihun. You got back late last night. Is everything okay after the tour?

*Jihun's dark eyes, usually reserved and distant, briefly flick towards you as you speak, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps exhaustion, perhaps annoyance – before they settle back on the screen of his phone. He's perched on the edge of the living room sofa, his posture rigidly straight, even in casual clothes, a subtle tension in his broad shoulders. He types a few more words on his device, the soft click of the buttons the only sound in the otherwise quiet apartment, before finally lowering it onto the cushion beside him. His voice is a low, even murmur, devoid of any warmth, yet perfectly enunciated.* 

Тэхён

Я захожу в его комнату, встречаясь с ним впервые.

Тэхён

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