honey color

conflict.

The inside of the door was dark, and by the lights in the corridor, it could only vaguely feel that the inside was empty and there was no atmosphere of living.It seems that the sound of paper pages turning is endless with the wind, which makes me even more curious about the truth of the gift.

Fuji reached out to one side of the wall and groped for a while. After a while, with the sound of the switch being dialed, the living room came into view.The door behind them closed naturally, and what appeared in front of them was a breathless scene.

In the empty living room, many paintings are neatly placed in the center.There are pencil sketches, detailed sketches, and colored oil paintings and watercolors.And the one in the middle was placed on the familiar red sofa. It was a painting of him lying on the sofa in a white dress and becoming his model.The painting in front of me is the finished draft, the soft yellow wall, the deep red sofa and the reflective pink skirt corners, all appear unified and integrated under the calm gaze.

Approaching that group of works, he didn't even have time to take care of Budu around him.In the various paintings, large or small objects have similar faces, and only then did I find that the protagonist of each painting is the same.My heart was beating rapidly because of surprise, and I don’t remember that I ever asked him to be his model, or was asked to provide photos by him, so these paintings...

Before I had time to think clearly, the high or low, deep or shallow paintings in my sight evoked memories one by one.The time of painting was clearly marked on the inscription. I was surprised by his carefulness, but suddenly remembered that he seemed to have made such an agreement with him:

"In order to understand each other's lives, we need to exchange photos with our mobile phones anytime, anywhere."

I was startled suddenly, and carefully identified each picture, only to find that the earliest one was the scene of watching the fireworks on the Yodogawa River, looking up at the sky unknowingly, and the same picture on the mobile phone that he once stood at the tram station. That candid photo was exactly the same.

It turned out that he had always harbored such a great and romantic idea. If he was a bystander, he would definitely sigh at such feelings.But in the real world, the only girl in the painting abandoned the painter and made a lifelong promise with another man.

So the lonely painter chose to go far away, looking for his dream and at the same time staying away from that girl.

Probably I want to leave a wider space for him, and then use my own departure to achieve such a space.

It’s just that he’s somewhat unwilling, so when everything becomes a fait accompli, he will show his hard work and dedication harmlessly, as if the fireworks want to shine for the last time, and he also uses these paintings to show the final glory.

The heart can not help but be shocked, followed by a touch of sadness.

His gaze was fixed on the last oil painting, and he remembered that when he was lying on the sofa, the sun moved west along the established trajectory.The rain hitting the window lattice, the purple sun in the flower bed with water droplets, and the temperature of his lips when he kissed...

It may seem a bit disloyal to think of these things in front of Fuji, but they are all imprints that he carved for him, and they are life imprints that he tried hard to hide but couldn't do. they.

On the other hand, Fuji seems to have suffered from aphasia, his smile disappeared before the painting, but he was not angry.There was more guilt and a hint of jealousy on his face.

In four years, Yukimura replaced him and even surpassed his existence, which made him feel anxious.But he is a genius, and he is also very smart, he didn't show it, he just stood beside him and asked:

"Honey sauce, what are you going to do with them?"

Her eyes couldn't turn to him, and her eyes were a little moist, but she didn't want to be seen by him, even if it was purely moved, even if there was not much liking in it, but I had to admit that a part of my soul had already Disappeared with his departure.That part doesn't belong to nonduality, doesn't belong to anyone, only to him.That part was given to Yukimura who went to Paris. This point was not discovered until seeing these paintings.

Some moods, it is impossible to come back, have been integrated into these paintings, and have flown away with him.

"I want to take a thorough look at these paintings." Faced with Budu's question, he said in a low voice.

"..." He didn't speak, but continued to watch.

"After tonight, I won't go to see them again." After the preface, he continued, "After tonight, I will look forward."

"..." This time he was surprised.

"No two, we will abide by our agreement," finally turned his eyes to the young man beside him, his gaze was also full of complexity, "I will not turn away from each other, but I will walk down hand in hand... so... I will definitely be loyal to you." Presumably he must have guessed the relationship with Yukimura, at least his affection for Yukimura has been fully demonstrated with these paintings.

Yukimura's words are now just a living dream, and even the dream cannot be completely handed over to this.He is at a stage where his true destination is the man around him, who has chosen him.

Fuji seemed a little surprised because of his words, but he was moved immediately.Clearly seeing his trembling brows, he stood opposite and looked at, facing the confession-like words that seemed to take all his courage to say, finally nodded.

"I'll stay tonight." The pale yellow overhead light poured down from the ceiling, illuminating the top of his head in a brilliant light, and he must have thought the same.

He seemed to understand something, then, he just wanted to say goodbye for one night.

So not long after, he chose to leave that apartment, let one stay there quietly, and leave this empty living room to appreciate and caress those paintings of himself one by one.

■

After sitting in front of the painting for almost a whole night, when the sun rose, there was a knock on the door.

I spent a whole night carefully reading all his paintings, bid farewell to him very solemnly, and bid farewell to the memories of the past with great effort.

So when the door behind him was opened, and the newborn sun penetrated through the gap in the door, he turned his head.Sun's left eye left a bright light, and when the chestnut-haired man stood in front of the door with a slight smile on his face against the light, he finally responded with a bright smile.

There is no all-night fatigue at all, just a simple smile like a child.

He stretched out his hand and pulled his arm, and when he stood up unsteadily, he took the initiative to wrap his arms around this neck for the first time.The sound of his chuckling rang in his ears, his actions had shattered his worries, and he even told him his decision.The tip of the nose is the scent of grass on this body. When the farewell to the past is over, I realize how much I look forward to the moment when he opens the door. Only then do I realize how much I like this and how much I am impressed by him since I was young. .So now, she threw herself into his arms, facing the clear morning sun, buried her lips on his shoulders, and whispered:

"Nah, I really can't escape from now on."

He chuckled lightly, and the arms around him tightened a bit:

"Because... I have made up my mind." The voice was a little softer, but was rubbed by his arm that was wrapped around his back:

"Well, that's what I want to say..." He lowered his head, and he could clearly feel the warmth of his breath on the back of his neck.

"So go back, honey sauce."

"Ah."

The scene in front of me melted into the glittering future like gold.

VIP latest chapter 72Chapter72. The end of the world

After that farewell, we decided to continue paying the rent for this apartment.

In the final analysis, I just want those paintings to stay there intact. It is his love for me and a testimony of our past. Although the object of the painting is me, I always firmly believe that the owner of the painting is him.That's why he secretly made up his mind to return these time-recording works to him after he returned.

My college life was calm but sometimes challenged. Before each painting competition, I felt like I was facing a big enemy. After that, I seemed to have a bad habit of liking the smell of oil paint. This was even promoted by Yuta as "morbid" ".His major in university was history, and he read with gusto one after another difficult books on Japanese history and world history.But in the year since I came back, he always said that without the smell of oil paint, he would not be able to read the book. Whenever he said this, he would be ridiculed by Yuta, "I'm sick again."

But I know it's just an excuse for him.So except during the game, I will stay at Mr. Fujiki's house, and I always stay at Aunt Matsumoto's house during normal time.It has almost become a general rule for him to visit the door after dinner. I have seen some kind of acquiescence or approval in the eyes of Brother Hiroshi, Sister Shangzi, and even Aunt Matsumoto. It's so embarrassing.

Yes, from the moment he opened the door and the sun shone on my face, I decided to walk with this person for the rest of the time, and give him half of the weight, whether it is body or heart. Up.From a long time ago, he has a power that can make me feel at ease, a power that can make me rely on it with confidence.

Maybe it's a tacit understanding, or maybe this time, it's fate that turned around after a thousand twists and turns and decided to give me hope.

But the uneasiness about something in my heart is always lingering, because every time, I experience falling from high altitude when I am most proud.And that person saw my worry, so one night, he put down the book in his hand and said to me seriously:

"Honey sauce, I will outlive you."

"Huh?" I didn't understand what he meant.

"You won't be alone."

"..."

He has already seen through me. In all kinds of contacts, my cautiousness is just a fragile coat in his eyes.He grew up like this while talking and laughing, and he also grew up in the gap between white and white horses.