Until one day, he borrowed the power of wine and looked at her in the night. Her eyes were big and flickering, like butterfly wings trembling lightly. The night-glow lip gloss made her lips extremely moist. Did she say something? He heard nothing, but what he remembered was her smile while drinking wine with her tears. Pity and pride suddenly arose in her chest, and she suddenly asked her, "Do you have a brother?" She was startled for a moment, but he had already brushed away the broken hair from her forehead and pressed his lips to hers. Can't help but explain. He heard his own voice saying, I am your brother. He felt her body tense instantly. The air becomes thinner and lighter. The night was like light silk, like cicada wings, with countless dark lines winding and snaking, and finally cracked and fell apart. She was shocked and subconsciously raised her hand to touch his chest. He thought she was going to push him away. He thought she was about to run far away from him. He thought he would never see her eyes or hear her voice again. He grabbed her hand almost desperately. His hands are warm. She throbbed, thoughtfully and meaningfully, as if she wanted to break free, but finally didn't.
Conception: