[wangwang doujin] juvenile underage

The snow started to melt that day, and Sakihara Ichie did not turn on the heater in the room, but put on a thicker coat and a longer cashmere scarf.

She lay on the bed and looked at the photo album she got on her birthday. She read it over and over again, and wiped it over and over again. The smile on the corner of her mouth could not be stopped.

She carefully flipped through the photo album, treating it like a treasure.

Dad is still the same as in memory.

When I traced the outline of my father in the photo with my fingers, the softness and longing in my heart were once touched, and it was out of control.Tears dripped down on the photo album, wetting the corner.The smiling face of her father in the photo made her feel such gentle and kind fatherly love, even if he is not around.

It was still snowing on her birthday, so she took it out of the snow-covered mailbox outside the door, and stayed in the room with Liu Lianer to look at it all afternoon.When she told him about the old days, the old days, the tears flowed out involuntarily, and she couldn't stop them no matter what.

This was one of the few times she cried in front of him, and then he hugged her so tightly that she couldn't breathe.

She rubbed the photo album, closed it carefully, put it under the pillow, and wiped her face clean.

When passing by the hall, I greeted my aunt and went out.

The snow boots stepped on the shallow snow, making a rustling sound. The neighbor's aunt stood on the balcony on the second floor and saw her saying hello to her. She responded with a smile.The white snow covered the vegetation on both sides, plundering that vitality and looking a little lifeless, but fortunately there was sunlight.

Go out of the alley and turn left again, there is a post office at the end.

It seemed very quiet at the moment, and three or two people stood by and delivered their letters into the box in an orderly manner.

"Good morning, Sakihara-san." The young man in front of the information desk saw her enter the door and greeted her skillfully.

"Good morning, Endo-kun." She smiled and walked over.

"Did you come to post a letter?"

She nodded, and took out a thickly stuffed envelope from her bag and gave it to him, "Please, Endo-kun."

The boy took the envelope, feeling a little uncomfortable in his heart.

After the girl walked away, he got up and made himself a cup of hot coffee. When he turned around, he saw a boy standing in front of the post office.

He was wearing a beautifully woven woolen hat of contrasting colors and a full-color scarf. His good-looking body was wrapped in a thick and precipitated coat, without looking bloated at all.

Endo Takashi is familiar with him, this is an overly precocious person, carrying too much loneliness and heaviness that should not belong to this age.

"Good morning, Sakihara-kun." He sat back in his seat and put down the hot coffee in his hand.

The boy who looked much younger than him walked over in the sunlight and walked up to him.

"Good morning," he said, then looked around and asked, "Has she been here?"

Endo Takashi nodded noncommittally, "Not long ago, it was really dangerous, just a little more time, and you will be able to meet face to face."

"I have a deep understanding of the teasing of fate, but now is not the time for us to meet."

The young man took a stack of letters handed to him, and the top one still smelled of Sakihara Ichie's hand cream.

"Thank you." The young man smiled, and put a stack of letters into the bag on the slant.

"It's easy to do." Endo Kei waved his hand, watching the boy go away.

The sun was getting stronger and stronger, and it had begun to slant in through the door, but even surrounded by the bright sun, Takashi Endo still felt very cold, his hands and feet seemed to be soaked in an ice cellar.

If there is no sunshine in such a cold and dreary winter, what would it be like?

The boy returned home along the ice and snow along the way.

The heating is on in the room, and even if you take off your hat, scarf, and coat, you don't feel cold.The boy's gaze was fixed on a corner of the desk, where there was a blue checked cardboard box.

Opening the paper box, the boy took out a stack of letters from the bag and put them in.

Estimated the space left in the entire cardboard box, thinking that it seems to be replaced with a new one, if this continues, it will soon be unable to pile up.

There was still a very old British movie paused in the laptop, and the boy clicked to continue playing.

A brand new letter paper was spread out, and the pen was filled with ink. He gently pressed the letter paper with his left hand, and started writing on the paper with the pen in his right hand.The ear-piercing voice accompanied by the desolate voice of the hero and heroine in the old movie made the boy's heart feel a different kind of heaviness.

The boy wrote good handwriting, full of strokes, vigorous and powerful, and a little old-fashioned.

After finally filling the entire blank, the boy opened the drawer and took out a new envelope from inside.

Put your faith together and look at the sky outside, it is gray-blue.Then the eyebrows engraved in my heart once again came to my mind.

That's it, Dad.