He stopped asking, his eyes drifting with her eyes. A look of disappointment gradually appeared in his eyes, and even a little sadness was a little bit like that night, he cried unscrupulously.
Because of the lost child, because of the lover he almost lost. For the first time, he felt sad, felt irrepressible self-blame, and once gave up on himself and used to torture himself as an vent - but on every drunken night, he thought of that
The poor child's face was tortured to the point of suffering.
Then, I wanted to make up for all this for her.
All of these will never come back?
Could it be that it can never be made up for it?
His voice dimmed, and he felt a little less confident: "Little thing..."
It seemed as if something hit the bottom of her heart, and she jumped wildly. She still didn't say anything, but suddenly hugged his neck tighter. She tried so hard that she actually pulled him down, her face tightly against his face
, exhale like orchid.
Indescribable joy and relief.
He almost jumped up, and his silent behavior was more pleasant than the most pleasant love words in the world. It was the silent behavior that only lovers understood.
Just like the roses in the dark night, blooming quietly.
A faint fragrance swept by.
The mist in my eyes is thicker, as if everything has been awakened in an instant, the ice has disappeared and disintegrated, everything has become chaotic and permeated, like in the dark night, finally sinking, entangled with memories and wishes, unpleasant memories and pleasant wishes
.
Time is no longer calculated in day or night, but drifts away from the two until it becomes meaningless, and there is only a deeper scale left between the world that is more realistic than real time.