Behind him, there was a rustling sound. Yves turned over, and murmured a few times, as if he had woken up.
Rain sat on the edge of the bed blankly, still holding the photo tightly in her hand.
"Rain..." The man put one hand around her waist, and after leaning close to her body, he rested his chin lightly on her neck, "Why are you just sitting here?"
Rain turned around and took the photo in front of Yves, "Why do you have such a thing?"
The man's face had recovered slightly, and no traces of it could just be seen at all. He shifted his gaze to Rain's hand, leaned his body against the bed, and took the photo in her hand with his slender fingertips. His brown pupils were shattered. The light dimmed, "This was sent to me when I first returned to the country."
"Who?" Rain's voice trembled
