That year, that day, that night.
Trembling, I took off your soaked brocade robe and black clothes, hugged you, and tried to use my body temperature to warm you up.
Your long and narrow eyelashes fluttered, and your eyes suddenly opened.
You looked at me with disdain, pushed me away, and shouted harshly, "Get out of here."
My tears fell down just like that, thick and unsatisfactory.
I love you so hard like you never love me.
I just stay with you because I love you, no matter what happens.
I just want to use my love. My heart. My contribution. Warm your increasingly cold heart.
I thought I understood you.
But I was wrong.
I was wrong.
That year, that day, that morning.
I fell on you with a bang.
You caught me and smiled naughtily at me, "Why did you bump into my arms?"
My face suddenly turned red, and I cowardly broke away from your hands.
You hugged me tightly.
I like you.
Nanping.
I really like you.
When I first saw you. I just like you.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
You love me as much as I love him, right?
You wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes with your hands in a panic.
Nanping. Don't cry.
Nanping. Sorry. I was wrong.
Nanping. I'll hold.
Nanping. I'll hold. Waiting for you to fall in love with me.
Nanping.
I will wait for you.
This pit is long. . . If you're the one, don't bother me. . .