That was the light of time that he wanted to keep but couldn't. He wanted that light of time to belong to him forever, but he couldn't bring himself to let it stay here forever. He didn't remember it.
When did he start to want to chase the morning light? Maybe it was because of something or a certain sentence that made him fall in love unconsciously. The begonia in his pocket was blooming slowly, because the light it needed came. He wanted him to be seen, let him take himself out and put it in his arms. Everything was empty, everything was determined. He couldn't force it if he liked it, and it was faintly visible if he didn't like it. Why did that begonia in his pocket wither?
Intention: Nostalgia, don't miss it