The first time they met was when she was twenty years old, he was going through the pain of losing his mother, and he was sitting on the stone steps in front of her coffee shop in despair.
She noticed him and made him a cup of Fruita.
"Drinking something sweet will make you feel better," she said.
He was silent and looked up. A pair of smiling eyes occupied his entire heart.
Later, around winter, when she had just celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday, she strolled along the riverside avenue, bought a bouquet of Ecuadorian green roses, and saw him smoking by the riverside.
"How about I trade a rose for the cigarette in your hand?" She said.
He looked at her, she still had a smile in her eyes, bright and moving.
"Okay." He took the rose, and she also took the unextinguished cigarette.
---1V1 running in both directions, SC practicing writing
Three-year age difference (secret love for literature)
Intention: I grew up wildly and failed to become my own moon. Meeting you is the candy given to me by the Milky Way.