"Bisexuality | Niche culture | Sobriety and decadence | BE | Random stew | Beautiful writing style | Sexual tension | Youth pain literature "
[Warm reminder: The heroine is unclean! The heroine is bisexual, please watch with caution! !
The way to grow is to be awake or to sink
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Xiaoran always lights a cigarette late at night and watches the firelight reflect on different people's faces.
The reflections of faces overlap and disappear on the glass windows.
It was only when her fingertips burned that she realized that the smoke had burned out, just like the relationships she had snuffed out with her own hands, all rising and falling in the ashes.
She thought she could fill the hole with indulgence, but she only fed deeper emptiness. Even the last sentence "You don't understand love at all" became an eternal mark on her collarbone.
She once promised Qiao Xiyan forever, but it ended in suffocation;
She surrendered to Heng Yuan's discipline, but fled because of her desire to be normal;
She exhausted the tenderness of silent words, the warm lamp was extinguished and he left;
She wrote the script for Zhang Junlin and stayed out of the play;
The madness and absurd reliance she spent with Lin tide at night;
She understands Xie Ruhui's metaphors and is limited to superficial contracts.
The night was endless, and she extinguished the last wisp of smoke. The names of the six people swirled on the tip of her tongue, but they were not pronounced aloud after all.
There was light outside the window in the distance, very faint, like a fragment of an old dream that someone had left behind.
The seventh dawn is approaching, and she still owes herself an answer...