Jin Renguang's black jeep stopped on the side of the road. The window was rolled down and the man's arm hung loosely on the sill, white billows of smoke blowing out of it. Two fingers that held the cigarette flicked and the ashes flowed down to the ground outside, the tip of it was still burning red.
He let out rings of smoke from his mouth, creating a hazy mist that covered his sharp features. The car's machine was purring softly and Twenty One Pilots' Cancer was playing softly on the background. The singer's soft voice suffused into the post raining cold air, inducing chills that rose from the sole of his foot to his whole body.
I'm counting down the days to go
This just ain't livin'
And I just hope you know
I will not kiss you
