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★彡

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★彡

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟎𝟒/𝐗𝐗/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

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𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟎𝟒/𝐗𝐗/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

The biodegradable cup cradled in Hotaru's hands emitted wisps of steam, its surface adorned with delicate ripples. As she tapped its smooth exterior, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the air. With furrowed eyebrows, she gazed intently at the cup.

"So, what do you think?"

"I certainly enjoyed the plot," Minako Ema, Hotaru's editor, her carmine-colored hair falling in stray wisps around her face. With almond-pink eyes were warm as she offered a reassuring smile. She reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The two had been working together since Hotaru's debut as a novelist, they grew comfortable with one another with years of working together to the point they consider themselves friends.

"But...?" Hotaru arched an eyebrow.

"But I don't sense the spark between the protagonist and her love interest," Ema confessed, her words measured and thoughtful. She took a sip of her own drink, her expression thoughtful. "Don't get me wrong, the story and the plot are great, but the way the characters interacted with one another doesn't excite me at all."

Hotaru sighed, her shoulders slumping as she felt the tension creeping into her muscles. She absently massaged her temples. "Ugh... you know I'm not great at romance." she lamented, her voice tinged with weariness.

"Because romance is popular, and brings even more readers," the woman says simply. "Cheer up."

Hotaru lifted her gaze from her coffee cup, her expression. "Well, I suppose I'll have to suffer for the sake of sales then,"  her tone as dry as the desert at noon.

"You'll be fine," Ema reassured with a small smile. "Look here, Hotaru," she continued, leaning forward slightly, her eyes alight with earnestness. "I've talked to the publisher, and they've given you the green light to take a month off."

MY BOY . oikawa tooruWhere stories live. Discover now