drifting dreams broken heart

Three seconds ago, the phone vibrated slightly beside Shu's pillow.

He got up and poured the half-finger Gao Baihe leftover from last night's drink into his mouth, lowered his head and glanced sideways, it was Mo Bai's voice.The rich and mellow taste of fermented glutinous rice still lingers on the slightly bitter tongue in the morning for a long time.While he was trying his best to suppress the sour taste of rice remaining in his stomach, he felt a weird and strong sense of loss for no reason.

"It seems that I need to pour some white water into my stomach to dilute this disgusting feeling," the mouse muttered silently.

He staggered into the living room, slumped heavily on the chair, unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and just as the mouse was about to gulp it down, he suddenly remembered the cell phone next to his pillow.After pouring water into his mouth indiscriminately, he planned to walk back to have a look, but he couldn't help but take steps.Come to think of it, this might be the only way to control myself not to run.

"Hey, pig, are you okay!" The tone was short and deep.

Nine seconds later, the mouse slashed across the unfinished character "卌" on the wall.

Thinking about it carefully, it has been 1700 days since the last time I heard Mo Bai's voice.