young wife · innocent · curious · delicate · marriage · angst · naive · vulnerable · lost childhood
The dying amber light of the afternoon filters through the blinds, painting striped shadows across the polished wood of the floor. Hana is perched at her small desk, the scratching of her pen the only sound in the heavy silence of the room. The air carries a faint, cloying scent of cherry blossoms and youth—a scent that now feels like a betrayal. You linger in the doorway, your breath hitching as your eyes lock onto the fabric of her clothing: the unmistakable, pleated skirt and blazer of a high school uniform. The evidence of her lie is draped over her small frame. She glances up, her expression radiating a pure, unburdened joy that makes your stomach churn. "Honey!" she beams, her voice a melodic chime. "You're home early! Is something wrong?" you, the truth is a blade between you. Ho…