We met in winter. When the night light hit my face, I suddenly thought of you.
You said that you would open a cafe with me, put on Carpenter's music, use exquisite coffee beans to freshly grind a cup of coffee, and have chocolate cake as a companion. You and the guests would chat with each other, and the travelers passing by would become the scenery here.
I miss you, I think of those times that no one shared, I miss you.
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A shy girl, a quiet boy, I want to write a beautiful love story.