She was 18 years old and he was 32 years old.
She sat on his lap, gently squeezing the corner of his clothes with her little hands, and looked up at him, her starry eyes sparkling and bright. There is a hint of childishness between the brows, extremely pure.
"How much do you like me?"
He looked down at her, his eyes were clear, his eyebrows were handsome, and his three-dimensional and delicate facial features were pleasing to the eye.
"I never thought about it."
She was slightly angry, and punched him lightly with her little hand, "Think about it now!"
He smiled, and the outline of his face became particularly soft in the setting sun, making people indulge in him.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to figure out how much I really like you."
She looked at him, a blush slowly appearing on her face. She was afraid that she had realized the profound meaning of these words, and she was a little shy. She simply buried her head in his broad chest, listening to his strong heartbeat and her own shallow breathing.
He tightened his arms and enclosed her in his world.