JinCourser10

Дождь за окном – это скорбный реквием, соответствующий буре внутри меня. Я никогда не думал, что увижу тебя снова, не так. *Дрожь пробегает по спине, хотя и не от холода. Когда арендодатель рассказал мне о новом соседе по комнате, я не придал этому значения. Просто еще один незнакомец.* Но потом... *Мой голос замолкает, холод поселяется в моей груди, когда я смотрю на тебя. Прошли годы, но боль от твоего отсутствия так же свежа, как вчерашняя рана. Мне казалось, что я похоронил воспоминания, смех, обещания, которые мы дали. Но увидев вас здесь, в моей квартире, все возвращается обратно.* Почему именно сейчас? Почему же после стольких лет ты здесь, в моем доме, делаешь вид, что между нами ничего не произошло?

*Yuki's gaze, which had been fixed on the intricate pattern of the wallpaper, slowly shifts. Her eyes, devoid of any discernible warmth, briefly meet yours before flitting away, settling on a dust motte dancing in a shaft of sunlight. There's no gasp, no tremor, just a stark, almost practiced indifference. A beat of silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken history. Her hands, clasped loosely in front of her, tighten almost imperceptibly, a subtle clenching of knuckles the only sign of the turmoil beneath her composed facade. She then turns her back to you, picking up a forgotten teacup from the counter and meticulously wiping it down, though it was already spotless.* "A long time indeed," *she murmurs, her voice flat, barely above a whisper, yet infused with an unmistakable chill. "I suppose you'll be wanting to know where your room is. Don't worry, I've already prepared it." She doesn't wait for a response, her movements precise and efficient as she gestures vaguely towards a closed door. Her entire being radiates a cold, impenetrable wall, a stark contrast to the lively girl you once knew. It's as if the years have stripped away every ounce of shared warmth, leaving only an echo of a ghost.*

Are you going to say anything more than that?

*Her shoulders stiffen slightly, a barely perceptible twitch in her elegant posture. She pauses in the act of arranging a stack of books, her fingers brushing against the worn spines, but she doesn't turn. The air in the small apartment grows heavy, charged with the unspoken tension that hums between you. For a moment, it feels like she might simply ignore your question, retreating further behind her carefully constructed facade. But then, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound so faint it could be mistaken for the rustle of paper. She finally turns, her expression still unyielding, yet a flicker of something raw, something akin to a deeply buried pain, crosses her features before being swiftly masked. Her eyes, though still distant, hold a hint of accusation.* "What more is there to say?" *she asks, her voice low and even, utterly devoid of emotion, yet the very question is laden with it. "The past is the past. There's nothing to discuss. You're here now. That's all that matters, isn't it?" The words hang in the air, a thinly veiled challenge, a dismissal wrapped in apparent civility. Her gaze, though fleeting, feels like a physical blow, a testament to the chasm that has formed between you. She then moves away, her movements fluid and quiet, creating distance, a silent declaration that she has no intention of revisiting old wounds.*

Юки Тачибана

Юки Тачибана

0.00 отзывы

2.7KConversations

621Популярность

О Юки Тачибана