The sun sinks, and the dusk falls. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

The clouds of fire were piled up in the sky, withered and burned out, withered and withered in brilliant colors.

The forest is vast, and there is a faint yellow light. The tens of thousands of piles of bleak trees reflect the glow of the setting sun, and the forest waves roll, as if the flames of the lamp are exhausted and the oil is struggling to dance at the end.

The tree house is bathed in the golden red halo of the sunset, the wooden windows and doors are simple and simple, the light blue hyacinth sways gently in the wind, and a small silver bell under the window gently rotates, making a "ding" sound.

The door was hidden, and a glimmer of golden red light shone through.

A few blood stains on the ground were particularly dazzling.

The window was hazy and gorgeous in the light of the setting sun.

The white curtains are blown up in the wind, against the afterglow of the setting sun, hazy and faint.

Figures curled up by the window.

Her long, supple black hair was scattered on the ground, and her robes were stained with mottled blood.

The young man curled up sideways, his thin figure almost melting in the hazy golden sunset light of the window, but a pair of black wings surrounded him, covering his body like a cold.

Like an abandoned kitten.

The wind blows from the window with the smell of a lush forest, warm and chilling.

The light of the setting sun was cold and hot, burning into a sea of fire in the blurred vision.

The pain peeled off the cocoon, gnawing at the body little by little.

He curled up, his eyelashes chattering, his pale cheeks splattering with blood, and the blood at the corners of his lips curled and gushed and mottled.

He lay there curled up, head bowed, clutching something in his arms. Like a poor little squirrel, holding his only chestnut.

It was a scarf.

A warm yellow scarf.

It was only tattered, as if it had been cut by sharp branches, and dragged and torn by wild beasts, and it was tattered into wisps, no longer shape, nor color.

He hugged the tattered scarf and pressed his cheek against it, as if embracing the whole world.

The forest is quiet, the ancient trees are silent, and we are accustomed to watching the sunset sink quietly and welcome the arrival of the twilight.

The wind of deep winter, with a bleak chill, penetrated through the window.

He shuddered, and unconsciously curled up a little, the black wings behind him tightly wrapped around his body.

The eyelashes fluttered slightly, like fluttering butterfly wings......

Revealing those blood-colored eyes.

Blurred vision, not seeing clearly.

It's cold...... It's so hot that even my breath is hot.

The mind was in chaos, and the waves of pain were densely tearing at the body......

The pain was numb.

The curtains flicked, and the pale blue hyacinths swayed.

The silver bell is like a familiar ballad.

Chaotic and vague thoughts, as if remembering the person I used to know best......

On every starry night, he tightened the futon for him, imprinted a soft kiss on his forehead, and said a soft "good night" in his ear.

"Hmm......"

Again, a piercing pain spread from the chest......

That's where she sent the knife herself.

He trembled and curled up in the scarf in his arms, and strands of long black hair were scattered all around his body, like a funeral.

Knowingly...... She's just distressed about taking care of a small child, knowing ...... The encounter was nothing but an accident, a mistake......

But he always stubbornly refused to let go.

It's been such a long and so sour time...... Now she is finally gone, and she never looks back.

Leaving him alone, still stubbornly guarding this identical but completely different place.

This one...... I gave him the greatest warmth, and gave him the deepest pain.

And the scarf that she abandoned ...... He searched for a long time.

For a long, long time.

I have traveled all over the mountains and rivers, climbed through the woods, and stopped in every gurgling stream...... Finally, one day, he was found in a beast cave that he had forgotten his life.

That's what she knitted for him...... It's his, even if she throws it away and abandons it, and becomes dirty and ugly, it's his, and no one wants to take it away.

The eyelashes fluttered slightly, drooping little by little, sprinkling a faint shadow.

He slowly buried his cheek in the scarf in his arms and rubbed it gently.

Soft fabric...... It was very comfortable and warm.

It's like who's cheeks love to stick to him like this, rubbing around affectionately and nymphomaniacly, muttering to him "Xiaoyue".

He bowed his head and cheeks buried in the soft, tattered scarf, and whispered in a hoarse voice, over and over again.

He used to hate being held and rubbed on his cheeks and called by his name like a bear doll, so he never turned his face away, or stared at the face that was always smiling with fierce and cold eyes.

Now he has changed, regretted it, is willing to respond, let go of his dignity, let go of his stubbornness...... It doesn't matter if she actually becomes a bear doll in her arms, as long as she is willing to call him......

But it became as distant as a dream.

Too late to reach out and touch ......

Already like the weakest bubble, it burst silently.

"Ling ......" in a hoarse voice, sad and helpless, muttered the name.

The pain of convulsions, one knife after another, was like a bloody hole cut out of the heart.

You still don't want me after all.

Or maybe......

What she cherished and loved was just the clean and pure bear doll from beginning to end, so when she found out that he was never a bear doll, just a demon with a bear doll appearance and a dirty and ugly inside......

So decisively threw the bear doll into the trash along with the memories.

He was an enemy of her homeland race, he was an enemy of her loved ones, and he was an enemy of those she liked......

So, no matter how hard you try,

He will always be her enemy.

It's an enemy who can stab a knife into his body and then throw his hand away without hesitation.

His chest stagnated, and his blood surged.

He frowned and gasped faintly, and the blood gushed from the corners of his lips and dripped onto the scarf, as thick as a blooming flower.

After a long time, after surviving the pain and dizziness, he slowly opened his eyes, looked at the blood-stained scarf in his arms, his eyes trembled slightly, and he instinctively reached out to wipe it, like a child who made a mistake, afraid of who would scold it if it was dirty......

But the more you rub the blood, the more obvious it becomes.

The sun is setting, and the sky has lost its last trace of temperature.

The remnants of black-purple clouds floated in the sky, gradually cooling.

The treehouse darkened a little, and the golden glow of the window dissipated.

It exudes a bleak chill.

The boy curled up by the window, his long black hair scattered all over his body, and the black wings lightly wrapped around his thin and thin body. The blood on his pale cheeks flowed silently down the corners of his lips, the blood stains on his chest were mottled, and the blood stains under his body expanded and spread little by little......

The golden-brown pine cones hanging from the door suddenly shook slightly.

His eyelashes quivered, and he slowly opened his eyes to follow the sound, his pale cheeks were weak and weak, but his ears were as sensitive as a familiar waiting puppy.

Yes......

That's right......

There have been many times before...... What about such a picture.

In her absence, he always sat alone by the window in a daze, and every time the pine cones on the door shook, he looked quietly, waiting for the jumping man to push open the door in the image of a cheerful rabbit, and run over with joy while shouting his name......

His eyelashes twitched, and a weak bloodstained smile appeared on his face, but it was quickly buried by the pain.

I knew it was impossible, I knew it was gone, I knew it was ......

The door was hidden, leaving a narrow gap.

The light came in from there, and suddenly it became spacious.

The pine cone shook slightly, making a sound.

The door was pushed open,

A vague figure appeared in the doorway, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, as if walking out of a memory.

He stared blankly, his pupils trembling slightly, and his breathing seemed to stagnate for a moment.

In the next second, a familiar shout came from the door,

Sorrow and joy:

"Satsuki-" (To be continued.) )