The characters appearing in this article are all pseudonyms. This article is based on real events and the ending is be.
It was winter in late December, and the wind was biting.
"Song of Bean Blossom" is playing on the radio. In the freezing snowy sky, I can barely see it in the cold wind. Your lonely eyes break my heart with hollowness. Maybe you didn't hear it and lingered like before.
This song is really suitable for the occasion. At this moment, whether it is the weather, the moonlight, or this song, it breaks me.
"Axian, look at me, don't look at the moonlight." Zhu Jun brought my thoughts back with one sentence.
I looked at his eyebrows and eyebrows, which were still the same as before. What I liked most were his eyes, but at this moment, I couldn't like them anymore. If he had said I love you like this in the past, I would have been extremely happy. I would have hugged him, touched his eyes, and told him that I love you too with all my heart.
But today I just feel like the biting cold wind is going to crush me.
When he said I love you, I saw that there was a sense of sloppiness and lack of sincerity in his eyes, just like the time when I said "This is your wishful thinking and you don't care about my business" some time ago, he was sloppy, indifferent and indifferent, and he was the same at this moment.
"I love you" is so romantic, but when I saw him looking away when he said this to me, his eyes were full of joy. I looked at where he was looking. That was Chen An, who was leaning on the wall at the door of the classroom and joking with his friends. He looked so beautiful when he smiled, much prettier than me.
"Does it look good?" I asked him.
"Not as good-looking as you." Zhu Jun replied.
I smiled, and I could clearly hear my sarcasm to myself.
I looked up at the moonlight and sighed that the moonlight was so beautiful tonight.
"A-Xian, don't look at the moonlight, look at me."
Ha, I sneered and didn't look at him. I just told him that class was about to start and left.
At that time, I was wondering whether all men are like this, or whether any ignorant woman would deceive herself.
Purpose: I would like to write this article to commemorate my summer.