Perhaps this was his destined disaster. He was breathing hard in his thoughts that were still as moist and dark as water, waiting for the distant redemption.
He has entered her into most of his memory, like an instruction, which is always executed at all times. It is tumbling in his hot heart. This kind of torture has gradually become a habit. The wound that bleeds endlessly eventually forms a scar. It is so eye-catching and exists forever like a brand.
She and him and him. A forbidden love that can never end. It will never be restored.