That day you asked me: When will we fall in love?
I didn't say anything because I wanted you to think clearly, ah, do you want to come and fight with me? Is it me? Do you choose me to be your comrade? I am a little devil, a lonely soul of melancholy, the humidity of the night; and you are the sun, a fat heater, and I am like a little mouse.
Thank you, this question is like an affirmation to me.
The next thing I blurted out was three words: I do.
I didn't say it.
I know that some things are natural, but when I think of this little mouse drilling through holes after holes in the darkness to survive, who doesn't look forward to warmth when seeing the burning stove?
The little mouse thought, can I spend the night here? Touching it nervously, the stove said hello, do you want to stay with me?
The little mouse thought to himself, is this stove talking to me?
This is no longer natural, it is temptation. The little mouse looked on flattered.
At night, the little mouse was thinking in bed, if, I mean if, it doesn't matter if it doesn't work, he would be warm if he covered himself with more quilts.
Now there is nothing left, any beginning is a beginning, and the end is another beginning.
Think about it, do you want to agree?
Intention: It is a romance novel, about redemption, about vulgar life, and it is even a bit like talking to oneself.