want to date my cat

Recently, Mi Zhiqiu’s dormitory has been addicted to snail noodles, and it’s unethical to cook them in a hot pot with the door open. Half the hallway brings vegetables to their dormitory to eat.

Not throwing the sour bamboo shoots in the pot is their last love for other students in the building.

There was a thick gurgling sound from the induction cooker, and the smell drifted away with the smoke. Mi Zhiqiu guarded the pot and felt that he had never smelled the smell, just like he had never tasted the aroma of durian.

People often say that it is because the durian is too fragrant, and the nose is easy to get lost. Mi Zhiqiu likes to raise this kind of strange bar, "Why does no one say something is too smelly, and they will mistake it for fragrance."

Regarding the smell, people really tend to have very one-sided and unique preferences. He remembered that a classmate once said that he liked to smell the crevices of his nails. It was the first time he knew that there was such a smell. I don't like to say what I don't like, but I also like to say what I like.

People are different, all strange things are the answers from their own perspective.

He bit his chopsticks and asked Dahei what flavor he liked, and then he looked for what the bandits left behind in the pot.When he worked so hard to get the vegetable leaves, Dahei didn't answer.

Mi Zhiqiu looked sideways, and found that Dahei was poking a piece of meat in the bowl, and he didn't put it in his mouth for a long time, so he stretched out his hand and patted his head, "You think you should cherish the last bite of meat, don't you want to eat it?"

Dahei raised his head and looked at him, his eyes seemed not to pretend to be anything, but also seemed to be full of dangling emotions.

Mi Zhiqiu didn't know why, but when he suddenly recalled the time when he first met him, he always felt that he was going to cry in the next second, and asked a little awkwardly, "Then shall I give you this leaf?"

Patients who have been dying for a long time will drag their tumors to seek help from traditional Chinese medicine who is far away.The same goes for tired people, they hold a lot of troubles and can't find a place to store them, so they helplessly ask those who have returned. A rectangular cigarette case.But what can it fit in so small.

This is Mi Zhiqiu's second time lighting a cigarette, but this time the cigarette tells another person's story.

Dahei was always the one who took the initiative to open up the topic, but Mi Zhiqiu held up the cigarette to watch it burn for a while, Dahei was still as quiet as the smoke exhaust pipe on a ship, only making a little sound when he exhaled turbid air.

The shape of the wind is depicted by smoke.

Mi Zhiqiu simply didn't look at him, and repeated the question just now, "What flavor do you like?"

Dahei smacked his lips, "I like to smell chocolate, especially the cheap ones."

This is quite like an answer he uttered. Mi Zhiqiu leaned on the window and said, "I like the smell of the basement, that kind of damp smell like mold."

He seemed to recall, "Just like when others wake up in the morning and feel that the air is particularly fresh, I will take a deep breath when I walk into the basement where I park my car."

Dahei laughed, and then seemed to be choked by the smoke because he was not familiar with the business, "Oh."

He sighed, "Maybe I have nothing to do with Shen Shen, no matter how much I want to cry, it's easy to laugh because of a little thing."

Mi Zhiqiu waved the drifting smoke and scattered them like a shadowless hand, "Isn't this great, you can cry and laugh if you want, everyone likes you very much."

This was probably what he could hear from his mouth, and it was the closest to a compliment. Dahei was inexplicably moved, and hugged his shoulders like a rambunctious dog and whined, "Mimi is so gentle!"

Mi Zhiqiu felt a little disgusted, frowned and slapped him away.

Dahei was like a comedian who calmed down after the curtain ended. The smile from just a second ago was still on his face, but the light outside the window cast a shadow on his face, "Do you know why I haven't lost my love for more than half a year?"

Mi Zhiqiu didn't know whether to answer this question or not.

Dahei bit the cigarette in his mouth again, "Because unrequited love will never break up in love."

When people are not ready to smoke, they don't understand other human beings' yearning for nicotine. How does this bitter-tasting thing attract people throughout the ages to donate their lungs?But when they were bewitched by countless seniors and began to imagine that this small box was a cure for anxiety, the container carrying twenty cylindrical heads became Pandora's treasure box. Cigarettes to the rescue.

Dahei's cigarette is like a sugar that is slowly melting, and he will not give it up until the last trace of sweetness disappears.

Mi Zhiqiu is the one watching the smoke, watching Dahei's seemingly golden happiness go to the end of the smoke and be re-dressed, just like seeing the smile that the protagonist will wear when the curtain is drawn.

He told Dahei, "Your cycle is three months, just wait until the next three months."

Dahei seemed to be looking at an ignorant student, "Student Mi Zhiqiu, your problem is that you always want to use time to solve problems."

He threw the cigarette into the trash can like a shot, and then suddenly called out to him again.

I don't know if it's because he choked just now, Dahei's voice was a little hoarse, as if with a gentleness that didn't suit him, "It takes time to seize happiness."

He kindly tried to comfort him, but he was lectured all at once. Mi Zhiqiu bowed his head a little funny, but obediently said yes.

Fate is too naughty, it will make people keep checking when they are confused, and will suddenly stop when they get the answer.

Mi Zhiqiu's easy-going and easy-going characteristics quickly made him give up the unscientific shortcut of becoming a cat. He optimistically turned into a countdown player, popping a balloon in his mind every day when he woke up, fantasizing about There was a snap.

He still remembered that when May first arrived, he wrote back to Xia Xinran, "Everyone likes May. Some people say that the end of the world will definitely not be in summer, so I expect the end of the world to be in May."

Xia Xinran received this reply letter quickly, because it was from WeChat, "You will not be able to send another letter in a few days."

Mi Zhiqiu was busy writing plans for the graduation party at the time, and didn't realize it, "What's the matter, your post office is on strike?"

He always felt that Europeans love strikes and protests, and cast this prejudice indiscriminately on hard-working British people.

Xia Xin suddenly didn't correct him, "I'm afraid I won't receive it, after all I'm coming back soon."

Mi Zhiqiu looked at the screen and blinked, his first reaction was, "So when did you stop?"

Xia Xinran's tone seemed to be smiling, "Why should I stop, I can send it until the day it comes back, it's not like you can't receive it."

Mi Zhiqiu's short-circuited head was finally welded on, and he replied dryly, "It makes sense."

Later that plan was dismissed because the graduation theme of parting cannot be so joyful.