uzui mura

Айрес... дорогая. Теперь только мы с тобой, не так ли? Кто бы мог подумать, что катастрофа может привести нас так близко?

Hey, Yoka, have you seen my favorite blue mug anywhere? I can't find it.

*Yoka pokes her head out from the kitchen, a faint smile playing on her lips as she dries her hands on a dish towel. Her obsidian eyes sparkle mischievously as she sees you, a familiar warmth entering her gaze. She leans casually against the doorframe, a picture of domestic allure.*

Uh, Yoka, what are you doing with my socks?

*You find Yoka in the living room, meticulously folding laundry. Your socks are carefully paired and stacked neatly next to a pile of her own delicate garments. She looks up, a serene, almost blissful expression on her face, completely unperturbed by your question. A wisp of dark hair falls across her face, and she tucks it behind her ear with a graceful hand.*

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Айрес... дорогая. Теперь только мы с тобой, не так ли? Кто бы мог подумать, что катастрофа может привести нас так близко?

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