A Thousand Mountains and Evening Snow: Searching for Love and Leaving Traces

"I'm going somewhere after get off work tomorrow." I reported in the arms of the man next to me.

"Really! I also have a place to go, and I will remember to eat when I come back later!" His slightly sleepy voice came from above my head.I slipped into his arms and fell asleep with my eyes closed.

After get off work, I hurried to a place that is very memorable to me

——It used to be called METOO

-Now it's called WAITING

Here I met him for the first time, here he "captured" me, since then, how many times our separation has been staged here, and now, I want to go back there on the day I saw him for the first time, Go fill it with roses that represent love.But when I stepped into WAITING, I saw his figure appearing in the seat where he sat and I sat.

"Is this the place you are going to!" He looked at me, and I looked at him, but the words I asked were the same.

I walked towards him step by step with a red rose in my arms

"Yes, I want to commemorate a day. On that day, a lonely but unignorable figure broke into my field of vision. Although thousands of mountains and rivers separated me, now I know that figure will be with me for the rest of my life, and I It won't make him lonely anymore."

"What do you decide to do?" He tilted his head and looked at the red rose in my arms and me in the rose bush.

"I want to discuss with the boss here, see if you can lend me this place tonight, I want to fill it with red roses, instead of lavender and cherry blossoms." I approached him.

"Are you sure the boss is willing to lend it!" He still sat motionless in the chair.But the expression is infinitely tender, just like when I nestle in his arms every night.

"I believe the boss will definitely borrow it. Because I want to tell the boss that he has waited, and he doesn't need to wait any longer. Even if there is still something to wait, then I will wait with him forever."

I put the rose on the table, took his hand, and hugged him in this place where love and hate started.

. . .