Fate is that a gust of wind suddenly blows, not stuffy or bone-chilling, but full of comfort, allowing you to immerse yourself in it again and again.
When we first met, you were holding a sharp kitchen knife in one hand and scarlet fish entrails in the other. The cute pattern on your pink apron was grinning funny.
When we first met, your tall body and white shirt looked even more handsome, and your cold face was intimidating, which was incompatible with the quiet atmosphere of the town.