"I thought you had already left," Leng Yiyou said casually while smoking a cigarette on the bed.
Lan Yingni was wearing his white shirt and sitting in front of the window. His baby-like skin declared that its owner was a little beauty, "You don't mind if I wear your clothes." He turned around and smiled lightly.
Two people who were so polite, two people who were entangled in bed last night. It's impossible to imagine two people being the same.
In their green days, they stood on the zebra crossing, loudly scolded pedestrians who ran red lights, and laughed loudly. I'm really glad I have something to recall.
Once immature, they have transformed into social celebrities, mixed with the ugliness of the shopping mall, and still plundering each other in love and hatred.
From past to present, those few people who have a deep or shallow relationship have stayed in the circles they built and have been watching the sky from a well. Real love cannot be found.
When the dust of life has settled, the wounds have been healed, hate is relieved, and love is lamented.