I let out a sharp breath and shook my head. So I was right. Well, whatever. I should be glad that Go Yohan isn’t the type to dwell on the past. Though, thanks to that very trait, there had been plenty of exhausting moments.
I searched the air for barely visible snowflakes, then looked at Go Yohan standing in front of me. That cold, indifferent face, staring at the delicate descent of snow—it suited him and didn’t at the same time.
It felt like watching a silent film in an empty movie theater long past its time.
A red carpet too quiet to be real. A chair so cold it sent chills up my spine. A sense of unease, like sitting in a seat stained with something unknown. The weight in my chest, a dull and tightening ache just above my solar plexus.
Honestly, the sight of falling snow is nothing but cliché. The first snowfall of the year isn’t anything special when you’ve seen it dozens of times in your life.
Yet, I just stood there, unable to move. Because before me, in the flickering light of this silent film, fine strands of downy hair caught the glow, reflecting it ever so faintly, and something in my chest ached.
“…It’s pretty.”
Thanks!!