Looking at the sleeping Ursula Solomon, Tabby Teller's brows softened like water.
He sat by the bedside, gently tucking the quilt corners for Ursula Solomon.
Ursula suddenly opened her eyes, in a daze, grasping Tabby Teller's hand: "Don't go..."
It was already approaching summer, yet her hand was still cold. Tabby Teller grasped her hand in return: "Alright, I won't leave, I won't leave. I'm here to stay with you."
Only then did Ursula close her eyes in satisfaction.
Under the dim moonlight, Tabby Teller saw the smile lingering at her lips.
"Ursula..." he couldn't help but call her softly.
In that instant, there was a feeling of having been separated by a lifetime.
He was still that graceful young man, and she was still that girl with a smile like a blossoming flower.
In those days, the feelings of young men and women relied on letters. He couldn't remember how many letters he'd written to her, only that it was many, writing almost every two days.
