The careless hug just now was like a thorn, firmly inserted into Dylan Song's heart.
He asked Oliver Huang to pay attention to Mia Yang's movements. He quickly learned from Mia Yang that they were coming here to see the art exhibition, but after learning the news, his body became uncontrollable. On Saturday morning, he drove here alone, holding a camera and following behind them, like an NPC outside their world.
When he went back, the sky was gray, and there was a muffled sound of thunder above the clouds. Dylan Song was sitting on a nearby public bench, holding a cup of cold coffee in his hand. He had been busy with the company recently, and even his hair I didn’t even notice it for a long time.
At this moment, he was lowering his head, and his unfettered hair slid down, covering his expression.
The air is heavy and heavy, and every breath feels very difficult. The sky is also extremely depressing. The thunder is still thundering, why doesn't it rain?
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