Every World is Collapsing [Quick Wear] ━ Vol.2

11.27 - third proposal (End)

The golden sunshine peeks out from the horizon and falls on the green grass. The blooming roses in the fragrant garden are exposed in the morning light.

The petals are as bright as fire and are layered in layers. From time to time, dewdrops from last night's frost can still be seen on the slightly rolled petals.

As the morning sun sets, the hot fiery red is like an elegant brilliance under the golden shroud. The quiet and peaceful freshness is intertwined with a kind of quiet and ready enthusiasm.

Not far away, a medieval-style painter dressed as a gentleman was painting on the drawing board with a brush. The beautiful scenery in front of him was perfectly presented on the drawing board by his skilled craftsman's hands.

However, at this extremely quiet moment, a voice broke the peaceful tranquility.

rustle--

The sound of gentle footsteps on the grass rang in my ears. The soft rustling sound was accompanied by a rhythmic beat. It was like stepping on the heartstrings, which actually caused the painter's brush to stop and carve the beautiful scenery on it. creation.

As if curious, as if puzzled, the painter in front of the drawing board slowly turned around, and then the moment his pupils reached his eyes, the brush in his hand fell down.

In the thorn garden not far away, a slender figure floated in the middle. He was only wearing a thin white shirt, loosely buttoned casually, and his long neck was as bright as fire, as white as jade, among the thorns. In the green, you can vaguely see the two straight long legs extending out of the clothes.

The mist that has not completely dissipated covered the unreal phantom, and at a glance from a distance, it was just a mirage dream.

He seemed to be looking for the most beautiful touch in the garden, his back was focused and absorbed, and not far away, there was a look, staring at his back, obsessed and passionate.

Finally, he found it.

He picked off the bright color from the thorn bushes with one hand. He turned around, and his beautiful face was exposed between the painter's slightly narrowed pupils.

Then, while slightly curling his lips, he raised the hand that was holding the rose of thorns tightly. The bright red color flowed down the green pole path, and dropped on the petals of the rose in front of him, silently adding to the enchantment of blood. .

That bright red smile carried the most primitive fatal temptation, like the complete self-destruction of an angel who turned into a demon after falling into hell.

As if being bewitched, the painter lifted his steps, looking at the person with his entire eyes, and slowly approached.

Finally, walking in front of the person, he raised the hands that had outlined countless beautiful scenes and gently held them.

Kneeling on one knee, in the standard surrender etiquette, he closed his eyes and kissed the back of his hand tremblingly and obsessively.

The moment the man kissed the back of his hand, a strange color flashed across Chu Jingran's eyes.

This scene was not in the script.

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