The rose blooms in midsummer, and the cold white moonlight shines on the thorns on its branches. She did not look at the gorgeous fireworks. Instead, she jumped down on that equally noisy night and plunged into the sea of roses that were the same color as her blood. The blood dripped on the bright red petals and eventually dried up. She died no different than when she came. But, there is no her.
Senior "old" assassin tX Palm Night Pearl h
Intention: If you find someone you like, go for it, don't be afraid of rumors