Treating people with love is like an embroiderer working at work. When the thread of love is exhausted, the tears are exhausted, and the mind and body are exhausted, you can explore and reflect on the finished product. Suddenly I remembered that the strange totem on the bright red satin, both the sad background and the style of the picture, had been doomed long ago, but the hands were pricked with thin calluses by needles. At this moment, the silk forged with blood, sweat and tears was already cold, and what penetrated into the body skin and bone marrow was only desolation and confusion.
(PS: Sadistic, weak S/M. If you don't like it, don't enter.)