K Country — Moon 🌙
The room is dim, wrapped in shadows that seem to breathe with the night.
Amber wood pheromones drift through the air—subtle, never overwhelming. A quiet reminder of who sits here, alone in the half-dark. The scent clings to the curtains, the cushions, the very walls, as if the room itself has absorbed him over years of solitude.
Moon sits on the couch beside the glass wall overlooking the garden. His knees are drawn up, his arms loose around them, his body folded in on itself—as if trying to take up less space.
His gaze is fixed on the world beyond the window—the flowers swaying in the warm night air, the trees whispering to one another, the white blooms glowing softly in the silver light.
White jasmine—soaked in moonlight, trembling in the breeze.
Like Zyren's smile. Like his eyes. Like the silver hair that caught the light and held it—something fragile, something worth remembering.
