The Seventh Year of Rain, with You

When I first met him, it was raining in City H, thin and soft, but warm. Just like his eyes, his voice, and his palms, they make me sink. The more profound impact was that it rained inexplicably the night we broke up. Like his red eyes and slightly hoarse voice. He said: "Shiyin, I'm sorry." I smiled and touched his lips on tiptoe, but I shed tears first. I said: "Ajin, it's okay, we all want to be well." Later, when his hot palm touched my waist, his woody-scented lips stayed beside my ear, murmuring, magnetic and bewitching. "... Shiyin, it's raining." He nibbled my collarbone, his voice tinged with lust. "... Seven years, madam..." "... It really makes me wait." It rained again. Among the crowd, he walked toward me with an umbrella and held an umbrella against the flow of people. He was the only one with light, a smile on his lips, gentle eyes, and he took me into his arms with his big hands. "You don't bring an umbrella? Go back and take care of you." … Shh, he is asleep. The story between me and him is very short and shallow, so I will tell you slowly, okay? (The main text has been completed, and the extra text is being coded. The full text starts directly from seven years later, and there is almost no abuse!)