The September wind passed through the end of the corridor, bringing with it the last bit of late summer dryness.
He Junlin stood on the podium, his white shirt puffing up slightly like a butterfly fluttering its wings. His voice was very soft, and his self-introduction was only three sentences short. After speaking, he lowered his eyes, and his eyelashes cast a small shadow under his eyes.
Yan Haoxiang was lying on the last row to catch up on his sleep, and was woken up by the desk in front of him with a pen cap.
He frowned and raised his head, and met those eyes - curved into the shape of a crescent, with a bit of a newcomer's restraint, but surprisingly bright.
My heart skipped a beat.
Later, Yan Haoxiang thought about it many times, trying to find the flaws in that moment. Is it too sunny? Is the wind too gentle? Or is it the way that man smiles that matches all his heartbeat points?
Can't find the answer.
The heartbeat of a seventeen-year-old has always been unreasonable, but it is natural. Like a sudden rain, you stood under the eaves and couldn't hide, so you simply got soaked completely.
The day He Junlin was assigned as his deskmate, Yan Haoxiang stared at the brand new 38th line on the desk and thought: It's over.
Even the back of this man's neck that was exposed when he lowered his head to write notes made him unable to take his eyes away.
Intention: Many years later, Yan Haoxiang will still think of that afternoon - He Junlin was sleeping on the table, and the sunlight gave him a golden rim.
He didn't know that this seed would take root for ten years, from his high school classmate to his later home, from "Hello" to "I'm back."
It turns out that love at first sight is not the starting point, but the echo of every heartbeat in the future.