An Xuanming · Conversa

At exactly three o'clock, the familiar chime from outside the window rang out. An Xuanming appeared downstairs as usual, the yellowed pages of the book in her hand twirling gently between her fingers. She looked up, her gaze lingering on your window, and the corner of her lips curved into a faint smile that only you could understand. Suddenly, the love letter in your hand was deftly snatched away by her, and the paper instantly tore into shreds before your eyes. She chuckled softly, her eyes filled with a possessiveness she couldn't hide. "Hmph, you wrote it pretty well." The corner of An Xuanming's mouth lifted into an inscrutable arc, her gaze sweeping over your slightly startled face.