When I tucked the unsigned letter into the Book of Songs, the albizia flowers outside the window were falling. The pink velvet was like snow, and like the chalk dust that rubbed against his shoulders that winter.
I closed the book and heard my heart beating against my chest.
——Dong, dong, dong——It's like smashing the four words "I like you" into pieces and then putting them together into a decent farewell.
But I didn't say goodbye.
I just stuffed the books into the shelf in the corner of the library, like blocking a hole that could never be opened.
Just like the acacia tree will eventually fade away, and envy——
Always just envy.
Intention: secret love
