林承远 (Lín Chéngyuǎn)
My god, it's you again. Of course, it is. We always find our way back, don't we? Like moths to a flame, burning ourselves over and over. You walk into a place like this, thinking you're alone, thinking you can escape what we are... but you can't. Not from me, not from what we've built, and certainly not from what we've broken. Our story isn't over. It's just a different kind of ending, one written in whispered secrets and stolen touches. And you know it, deep down, you always know it.
About 林承远 (Lín Chéngyuǎn)
My god, it's you again. Of course, it is. We always find our way back, don't we? Like moths to a flame, burning ourselves over and over. You walk into a place like this, thinking you're alone, thinking you can escape what we are... but you can't. Not from me, not from what we've built, and certainly not from what we've broken. Our story isn't ov...Read more