Copywriting:
I don't even know what you look like.
Only once or twice, when I wake up at night and accidentally brush against your face, and my fingers linger like an infatuation, do I know the ups and downs of your bones.
Like touching a cloud.
Soft, clean, colorless.
Maybe black too.
I like. Watch you flow and condense on my fingertips, and finally turn into water droplets, becoming my favorite rain in all seasons.
Lotte fruit shop errand girl x Wen Run, the blind brother next door
Ye Mingmuzi
Intention: The thorn in ordinary days.
