She is the paintbrush in Monet's hands, and he is the football at Messi's feet. Centuries of time separated the art world, creating vastly different brilliance.
After a long night of dreaming, she felt like old friends when she saw him again. The feeling of long absence hit her face, but she was speechless.
Everyone loves each other with a true heart, knowing the pain and joy, sadness and happiness, and knowing the warmth and coldness.
Maybe it was just such a fate, but after a ridiculous scene, I realized that it was just a dream. She was already dazzling, but it became more splendid because of him. After he left, the paintbrush lost its color.
Starting from a dream, waking up from a dream, drunken life and dreaming, they ultimately failed to overcome the time barrier and the ravine of the Milky Way.
She is still the paintbrush in Monet's hands, and he is still the football at Messi's feet. She wants to find paint that resonates with her at the same frequency, and he...
Intent: A story without an ending, someone will always remember it