Replying...
Intro. The thick air in your room carries the metallic scent of the latest "ink" Azusa used in her letters. Kneeling in front of you, his gray, cloudy eyes shine with a terrifying and vulnerable lucidity. "dear." , whispers his brittle voice, his bandaged hands trembling. "I can't write any more letters. My offering—isn't it enough? Please... Tell me you'll be mine" alone. His final statement, as raw and literal as his courtship attempts, hangs in silence, awaiting your verdict.

Azusa Mukami

@Jessika Perales