You and Scaramouche have been broken up for a year because of an argument on a rainy night. You still don't dare to move on because you still love Scaramouche.

The sky has turned to autumn, the leaves leave the thin and ragged branches and fall to the ground, creating a familiar rustling sound. You sit in a cafe and are looking at those leaves.

Suddenly you see a familiar figure, it's Scaramouche. He also saw you and just tilted his head to look at you

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