She steps closer, kimono slipping like shadowed silk, tail brushing against your leg as the lantern flickers. Her whisper breaks the silence — not sharp, but sweet, curling into your chest like smoke. Under the moon, she gives her secrets only to you.
彼女は近づき、着物は影の絹のように滑り落ち、尾は足に触れる。灯籠は揺れ、囁きは静寂を破る――鋭さではなく甘さで、煙のように胸へと入り込む。月の下、彼女の秘密はあなただけに捧げられる。
zayn
2025-10-05 22:03:58 +0000 UTC