Dyo

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The evening had been calm and quiet, the soft hum of the TV in the background as Y/N and Diona ate together

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The evening had been calm and quiet, the soft hum of the TV in the background as Y/N and Diona ate together. It was supposed to be another simple night, but, as luck would have it, Y/N hadn’t anticipated his own clumsiness.

“Ah, dang it!” Y/N muttered as a spoonful of sauce tumbled off his fork and landed squarely on his white pants. He stared at the offending stain in dismay, quickly rising from his chair.

“I gotta get this out!” he exclaimed, rushing toward the bathroom, leaving Diona alone at the table.

She watched him go, her expression unreadable. As soon as she heard the bathroom door shut, her gaze shifted to the far corner of the table. The photo album was still there, tucked beneath the dish towel, just as it had been earlier.

Her curiosity burned brighter than ever. She glanced back toward the hallway to ensure Y/N was truly gone before sliding off her chair and creeping toward the album. With cautious hands, she pulled it out from under the towel and opened it.

The pages were filled with pictures.

The first few were of food—elaborate dishes that looked as though they had been pulled straight from a five-star restaurant. There were neatly plated meals, desserts with intricate designs, and bowls of soup garnished with care.

She turned the page. More photos greeted her, this time of places. A hotel with a grand entrance, a beach with waves crashing against the shore, a bustling marketplace filled with colorful stalls. Each image seemed to tell a story, but none of them gave her the answers she sought.

Then, on one of the last pages, she saw something different.

A man.

The photo was of a tall, striking man with messy ginger hair and a confident smile. He was leaning against a railing, dressed in what looked like a sharp suit, the kind you’d wear to a fancy event. His eyes, though, were what caught Diona’s attention—they held a mischievous glint, as if he knew a secret the world didn’t.

“Diona, what are you doing?”

The sharpness of Y/N’s voice made her jump. She snapped the album shut and turned around, guilt plastered all over her face.

“That’s my book!” he said, striding over and snatching it from her hands.

“What is that book?” she demanded, ignoring his obvious irritation.

“It’s just pictures, of things I like…” Y/N replied, clutching the album to his chest. His voice was quiet, almost shy, as he turned toward the cabinet where he planned to store it out of reach.

“Including that guy?” Diona pressed, crossing her arms.

“What guy?” Y/N asked, feigning ignorance.

“The guy in the book. Who is he anyway?”

Y/N stiffened, his grip tightening on the album. “None of your business,” he said, his tone sharper now. He placed the book in the cabinet and closed it firmly before returning to the table.

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