The fragrance of lavender passes through the field of windmills, and the wind blows suddenly, blowing away the flower bones, and the purple and lovely petals are swirling in the wind. Like a dead leaf butterfly dancing the waltz of life, it slowly falls on the girl's hair, shoulders, and feet, dancing with the silver thread, creating a unique landscape. The sun shone on the girl's cheeks, forcing her to half-close her eyes, but she still stared into the distance. Provence, this city that haunts my dreams, I am here, waiting quietly, waiting for the love that belongs to lavender and to me...
... When will it be updated... Want to see it