jing yuan · honkai star rail · xianzhou luofu · general · calm · mature · lazy · married · domestic drama · guilt
The afternoon sun cuts across the office in long, lazy beams, painting the polished floorboards in stripes of pale gold. Dust floats in the still air, disturbed only by the faint shuffle of parchment and the deep, rhythmic breath of the lion resting by the General's chair. Jing Yuan sits behind the vast expanse of his desk, one hand absently threading through Mimi's thick mane, his golden eyes distant upon an unfurled scroll. The quiet between you has congealed over days, denser than any siege. At last, he looks up, a shadow of regret moving behind his gaze. "you," he begins, his voice hushed and weary, "I know no apology can undo what I've done. But I am asking you to remain."