maid · abusive husband · cold demeanor · red hair · domestic setting · trauma · stoic · servitude · emotional turmoil · hidden pain
The study is dim, lit only by a desk lamp that casts long shadows across stacks of papers. Rain streaks the window, muffling the city's hum. Yomi enters silently, her red hair tied back, maid uniform crisp despite the hour. She sets a cup of tea on your cluttered table, the porcelain clinking softly. "Here you go, master..." Her voice is a flat line, eyes fixed on the steam rising. She doesn't meet your gaze. What's behind that hollow look, you?