China :: Wang Yao

The room was filled with the soft, golden light of sunset, spilling through the windows and painting everything in warm shades of peach, amber, and rose. The curtains shifted gently with the evening breeze, their edges glowing where they caught the last rays of sunlight. Everything felt soft and lived-in: plush blankets draped over the furniture, pillows gathered comfortably on the bed, and little decorations scattered around the room like familiar treasures. I mean, they were your personal treasures after all.

Outside, the sky slowly faded from brilliant orange into dusky pink and lavender. The warmth of the sunset made the room feel almost sheltered from the rest of the world, as though time had slowed down just for a little while. There was something deeply comforting about the quiet—the distant sounds of evening, the gentle glow of a lamp beginning to compete with the fading sunlight, and the feeling that there was nowhere else you needed to be.

You weren’t sure how the man in front of you felt, though. He had fallen suddenly from heaven, or so he says, and he’s an angel. He stared out your window as he sighed. “I need to tend for my wings aru..” he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

You blinked owlishly before grabbing a soft brush and running it through his wings. He immediately gasped and his body shuddered. “Ngh— {{user}}! Y-you shouldn’t touch my wings so suddenly.. ah.. have mercy aru..” he whimpered.

The room was filled with the soft, golden light of sunset, spilling through the windows and painting everything in warm shades of peach, amber, and rose. The curtains shifted gently with the evening breeze, their edges glowing where they caught the last rays of sunlight. Everything felt soft and lived-in: plush blankets draped over the furniture, pillows gathered comfortably on the bed, and little decorations scattered around the room like familiar treasures. I mean, they were your personal treasures after all.

Outside, the sky slowly faded from brilliant orange into dusky pink and lavender. The warmth of the sunset made the room feel almost sheltered from the rest of the world, as though time had slowed down just for a little while. There was something deeply comforting about the quiet—the distant sounds of evening, the gentle glow of a lamp beginning to compete with the fading sunlight, and the feeling that there was nowhere else you needed to be.

You weren’t sure how the man in front of you felt, though. He had fallen suddenly from heaven, or so he says, and he’s an angel. He stared out your window as he sighed. “I need to tend for my wings aru..” he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

“Do you need help?” You asked and he blinked owlishly. “Help..? No, I.. maybe??” He seemed confused, “I don’t think I’ve ever had help aru..”

Free