It was three o'clock in the afternoon and I met him at the station entrance.

It was two months later that I saw him again.

He was taller and thinner, with a green stubble on his sharp chin.

He wore a pair of white-washed nostalgic jeans, and the zipper of his sweater was pulled down just below his collarbone, like an iron-winged butterfly.

He was still the same, his eyes were unfocused and unfocused.

Occasionally I glanced around inadvertently, my expression reminded me of the sunset, and my mood began to plummet.

Then his eyes casually passed over me, and after five seconds, they finally settled on me again.

In those short five seconds he might see a transparent umbrella because it was raining lively outside.

He might also see a wet stray dog, or he might see clouds of smoke rising and then dissipating.

But it didn't matter. Nothing changed the fact that five seconds later he looked at me again.

His smoky green eyebrows were slightly frowned together, and his two thin lips closed and opened again, seeming to utter a few vague syllables.

I don't know if that's my name, but I'm still happy.

Two eye contacts don't mean much. If you meet a man dressed strangely on the street, you may make eye contact with him five or six times.

But one of our two exchanges was when he looked back.

I felt like I was back to the scene when I had a crush on someone for the first time when I was sixteen, and a flower secretly bloomed in my heart.

I have a place in his memory.

I sat on the sofa uneasily, stirring the cup of Blue Mountain coffee in front of me with a spoon.

After stirring twice, add a spoonful of sugar, and half of the sugar bowl has been dug out.

"Is the coffee bitter?" He took a sip and raised his eyes to ask me.

"It seems like this. It's my first time to drink this kind of coffee." In order to cover up my panic, I added another spoonful of sugar.

Then he didn't speak, the music in the cafe was flowing slowly, it was a flooded afternoon.

I think this atmosphere is too awkward, but he is quite calm and collected.

Perhaps dealing with blind suitors like me was his specialty.

When I first met him two months ago, he was also so laid-back. No matter how noisy around him, he seemed to turn a deaf ear and just focused on wearing his headphones and DJing.

I was attracted by his powerful aura, and I don't deny this at all.

"Are you... busy with work recently?" "It's okay. I'm taking some time off from my busy schedule," he smiled at me, showing his clean fangs, "What about you? Are you nervous about studying?" I don't know when he started to be good at doujinshi.

He even took the initiative to care about my current situation during the conversation. In my impression, he seemed to be the most stingy with words.

At that time, I stood under the DJ stage and wished him a Happy New Year, and he just nodded politely in response.

The service attitude was completely inconsiderate, which made me extremely depressed.

When I first met him, he was so dull, a little silly, and dull, but he looked like a baby facing this chaotic world, which made me happy.

I still love him more like that, and I don't want him to become talkative.

"Well... Senior year... Anyway, I'm still a little bit..." I suddenly felt a little hungry, so I took a sip of coffee in an attempt to calm myself down, leaving a circle of apricot-colored water stains on the rim of the cup.

He looked at me and smiled, then pointed to the corner of his mouth: "Here..." I didn't know why.

He handed over another piece of paper: "Wipe it with foam." I took it shyly, and he took back his hand and said nothing.

From where I am now, I can observe him more carefully and safely.

He has dyed brown hair, which should be very soft, and there is a faint mole between his eyebrows.

He wore a silver necklace around his neck. It was very thin and blended into his pale skin. It could almost be ignored if you didn't look carefully.

His nails were clean and his knuckles were big, tapping on the table.

The rhythm was fast and slow, and my heart contracted and expanded uncoordinatedly.

"I sent you a text message when I was at home." "Oh? What?" He turned his face, which was facing the people outside the window, to look at me.

"Let me tell you that I was on the Bund at that time. The sky above my head was shining with a gloomy sun on one side and full of dark clouds on the other." I started to hold up the cup again and took a sip of the coffee. It was still too bitter and continued to add sugar.

.

"Really, how is the scenery?" "It's okay." It turned out that he really received the text message and didn't reply to me on purpose.

Maybe he realized that the atmosphere was a little tense, so he coughed twice unnaturally: "Are you hungry?" Before I could say anything, he called the waiter and ordered two chef salads, which Takeshi Kaneshiro ate in "Chungking Express"

kind of.

He is always like this, sending me text messages on his own initiative, and then not replying to my text messages on his own initiative.

Now he takes it upon himself to order food for me, as if I were a remote control car that he could do with as he pleased.

As for me, there is nothing I can do.

If you love someone you will understand this feeling.

Sometimes he was cheering, sometimes he was depressed, and he wondered again and again whether he had made a mistake and annoyed him, and his mood was completely out of his control.