[I'm having an old friend for dinner...] People kill. Some for things that their victims have done, some, however, for reasons arisen from themselves. Their cravings, their sexual desires, their anger or grief. The second kind, are almost always the trickier.
最后才懂自己是butterfly自己才是这段恋情中弱势的一方爱情终将成为谎言但并不代表我不曾爱过你“whatever happens, the days I spent with you, were the only days I ever turly existed.”(190203 于冰岛lucky records)