When I first met you, your cold appearance was wrapped in a hot soul. My eyes always stayed on you.
I have seen your bright eyes and the dimples that pop up when the corners of your mouth are raised.
Your tenderness is ten percent to me, one billionth.
—
The first time I felt the vitality of youth was the day I met you at the teaching stairs. When you held your friend's hand and went down the stairs, when the sunset shone on your face, the dimples in your smile made it difficult for me to take my eyes away.
Loving you is the bitter tears of my youth.
Secret love ended in early summer of that year.
Concept: A seven-year secret love story