Wooden floors always have this kind of neither happy nor sad temperature. The thin lines are intertwined with each other, entangled into a blur, just like those ignorant and ambiguous feelings climbing up from the fingertips, blooming across the whole world in the quiet look at each other.
The cool moonlight spread over my ankles, chilling my skin. His hand subconsciously slid to the right, as if he could still hold onto the warmth of the old days.
The determined tone, the smiling eyebrows, the tiny bits of sunshine, the illusion of eternity.
"I will be the barrier that you must overcome. I want to live with you like this. It doesn't matter even if you hate me. Isn't this the so-called big brother?"
Itachi, Itachi, Uchiha Itachi.
Even if the years grow old and the frivolity is gone, even if the years are barren and the enthusiasm fades, even if the rings of the year turn around, we will recall the old days.
I think I may still not be able to easily forget the pain in your heart that is like a spider's thread when you lower your head and close your eyes.
I think I will probably easily fall into the scorching and desperate colors of March peach blossoms.
A dream for a thousand years.
Conception: