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' Let the moon shine not '
' For your beauty is the only light I need through darkness '
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PROLOGUE 1
" Is it Saturday already?" I groaned in irritation, my eyes dropping down once in awhile as I let a yawn disturb my lips. My steps were heavy as I walked down the wooden stairs, the faint sizzling reached my ears. "Morning, Mom," I greeted, rubbing my eyes as a strand of hair brushed against my eyelids.
Obviously my usual obnoxious alarm woke me up from my sweet slumber—A slumber that I desperately needed for both my physical and my mental health, mostly my mental health. Yet my dearest clock had to scream, an ear-splitting scream that can even be compared to the shrieks and squeals of the girls in my university whenever they would see a handsome boy walk by.
As I walked down further on the long stairs , andYes they are that long , sometimes I even wonder if I have arthritis. I noticed the subtle changes in the atmosphere: the cool touch of the wooden banister under my hand, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed sencha tea mingling with the sound of sizzling fish and the soft morning light filtering through pearly white curtains, casting gentle shadows on the tiled floor.
The interior of our house had a modern American charm, blending functionality with a sense of comfort. Soft white hues adorned the walls, creating a serene backdrop for everyday life with a painting of a peculiar white fox just above the couch as incense loomed around the corner. Natural light streamed through large windows, casting a warm glow on sleek, contemporary grey furniture. The decor was tastefully minimalistic, with clean lines and subtle accents that added personality without overwhelming the white space.
It seemed mom had cleaned the house as usual.
As I slouched into the couch, its arms hugging me not too tightly, my mother let out a quiet tsk. Her deep sigh heavy with a blend of discipline and pride. "Aiyaa... This is what happens when you stay up so late. Look at you, 7 Am. You still have to go to school! " She chided with her voice ringing out like an annoying tinnitus, bothering your eardrums.
I only ignored her words, whipping out a book called ' Beauty is pain' , quite a peculiar book yet nonetheless interesting. I heard the metal ladle scraping against the pan amidst the ongoing sizzle, mirroring my turmoil. I couldn't suppress a sigh at her damn predictable words, wishing she wouldn't fuss so much about my nightly hours.
