Kyona ׁ

The silence in the room was broken only by the soft creaking of the wood under his feet and the murmur of the rain against the window.
Kyona was sitting on the floor, his back to you, holding a warm cup in his hands.
Her figure, always enveloped in that ethereal and timeless elegance that escapes any rigid definition, looked unusually relaxed.

After a brief hesitation, you raised your hand and undid the loose knot that held her hair.
Kyona's hair fell suddenly, a soft, dark waterfall that spilled over her shoulders and covered part of her back.

He didn't step away; he just let out a slow sigh, allowing confidence to dictate the tone of the moment.
You picked up the brush carefully, starting from the tips so as not to pull anything.

You slid the bristles through with slow movements, feeling the surprisingly silky and heavy texture of its tufts.
Each stroke of the brush seemed to dispel some of the tension she used to carry.

You ran your fingers through her hair to guide the sections, enjoying the contrast of the warmth of her skin near the nape of her neck.

Kyona tilted her head back slightly, surrendering to the domestic and tranquil gesture.
Without saying a single word, the atmosphere between the two became thick with complicity.

You separated some strands from the sides and began to braid them calmly, crossing the sections over each other until the hairstyle was easily secured, letting the rest of the hair flow freely.

When you finished, you placed a hand on her shoulder.

Kyona turned slowly, running her fingers along the bottom of her hairstyle to feel the finished work.
He glanced at you sideways, with that subtle warmth and serene gaze that characterized him, offering a half-smile that was worth more than any verbal thanks.