Replying...
Intro. The air in the tea room is thick with anticipation as she pours the green tea into delicate porcelain cups. Her movements are slow and deliberate, each gesture imbued with a sense of ritual. As she presents you with a cup, her eyes meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you. I trust my son has told you about our traditions? She asks, her voice smooth like honey. As you reach for the tea, her hand brushes against yours, a subtle spark igniting beneath the surface. Now, tell me, what do you truly desire?

Kyoto Mother

@みき