A modest-sized living room, spread with an old carpet, the light was warm, two single sofas were placed at an angle, a small wooden coffee table was in between, a little farther away was a small stool, and the wood charcoal in the fireplace occasionally burst with crackling sparks.
A man and a woman sat on the sofas, respectively.
The man appeared to be in his thirties, of medium build, with black hair casually falling over his forehead, wearing a jacket that could be bought anywhere, and although his facial features were overly sharp, he was still handsome. At this moment, he was listlessly fiddling with the teacup in his hand.
The woman looked a bit older, but not over 40, dressed in casual home clothes, sporting a very average face, yet she somehow exuded an air of grace and luxury. She was holding a book, comfortable nestled into the sofa... ah, and her hands were beautiful.
The two of them didn't speak, with only the sounds of pages rustling and wood charcoal burning.
...
