Qiuyuan hurried to the hall and sat on the sofa blankly, his heart still beating wildly. The studio was very quiet and he could hear his rapid breathing. He didn't know what was wrong with him. It was the first time he had this strange feeling. The washing machine was still spinning, and the air was still hot, but he felt that his heart was even hotter, as if it was on fire.
Chen liked to watch him hold the brush tightly with his long fingers, stroke by stroke, and outline with thin lines, gradually making the painting paper in front of him come alive. His eyelashes were long and thin, and his eyes were focused. Even though the old-fashioned hanging fan was spinning loudly above his head, he was not distracted.
Purpose: Love is the cure for loneliness