A love letter to Zoey
Under the dim streetlights, they still appeared vibrant and fresh.
Barlen also liked to give her roses, usually ninety-nine.
In the beginning, he would bring them every time they met. Even after they were together, he insisted on it. Over time, she became indifferent to flowers.
But the bouquet in her hand was different, embodying a boy's entire, pure affection.
Her dormitory was mixed, with students from different departments and years. When she returned, the junior roommate was already asleep.
Her other roommates hadn't come back yet. Without turning on the light, she placed the flowers on the table in the light from the window and stared into the night.
Bab Populer