"Have you really thought about it?"
The woman on the bridge stood alone, holding a paper umbrella lightly with her fingers. The peach blossoms embroidered on it were red and see-through.
He smiled but said nothing.
"It's a promise... You'll come see me again in half a year."
The woman pursed her lips, with a hint of sadness in her bright eyes and cold lips - were the fireworks worth the moment?
Conception: