By accident, he broke into his room. Under his beautiful eyes that were widened in shock, he raised his small and delicate chin, pressed his cold thin lips, and regardless of his struggle, tapped his mute point. After a slight hesitation, he roughly tore his clothes.
After a night of lingering, when I opened my eyes again, he was already gone, but I don't know when, there was a beautiful bracelet on his wrist...
Three years have passed by in a hurry, the days are full but the heart is empty. His choice: persist or give up? When he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, he turned back indifferently, raised his eyebrows like a painting, opened his lips like fire, and said calmly: "Who are you?"
They met: by chance or necessity?
His choice: persist or give up?
His choice: to find it or to forget it completely?