Fyodor probably likes me, I know that.
When we were in Russia, we seemed like a couple.
We can dance together in the ice and snow, or take a walk on the trails of Moscow.
He played the violin to me and I read him poems.
When my eyes met his, I could see the same thing in them as mine—
It's love, it's admiration.
We are like an ordinary couple. If there are no accidents, we should live in peace for the rest of our lives and be able to smile at each other even when we have gray hair on our heads.
.
So, there are no ifs in this world.
I swallowed my last breath under his frightened eyes. Blood covered my sight, and warm, transparent liquid fell on my face.
I raised my hand to wipe his tears, but I only touched a cold patch.
I closed my eyes.
Fyodor, things that are unavailable and regretful are the most precious.
Because you can't get it anymore.
.
Four years later, I met Fyodor again.
He was holding a remote control in his hand, but he was stunned when he saw me, and the remote control fell out of his hand.
At this time, I kicked Osamu Dazai in disgust:
"Osama Dazai—get up and work, you lazy idiot!"
Dazai Osamu's voice was lazy:
"Know-know-"
"I don't think you know anything about it——! You can sleep on the street tonight!"
I growled.
The next moment, I was hugged by him, and the man with iris-colored eyes blew into my neck——
His voice was proud and lazy:
"You can't bear to part with it, right?"
.
#Feodor-fist is hard#
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The whole text is written in third person, OOC is inevitable, if you don't like going out, turn left.
Cp is undecided, buy stocks, please.
Intention: Of course this is also fake