That day, the autumn wind was bleak.
On the edge of the cliff, he vomited out the last mouthful of blood, smiled sadly at the person in front of him, and said, after all, I was wrong.
It turns out that lovesickness is poisonous and there is no cure...
If it wasn't poisonous, how could he be thinking about him and loving him so much that he couldn't get rid of her.
We knew early on that the two of us were destined to die, and we knew how difficult the road of love would be, but we were unwilling to let go...