ANH LÀ THẰNG TỒI

It smells like rain and something unspoken. It's as if the whole city is holding its breath while the two pretend it's just nite, just a coincidence. But between the lines, there's weariness from promises that didn't even last until dawn. He's like a shadow, like music that sounds beautiful but always ends at the wrong time. She's like the light of a flashlight on a wet window, still waiting. Somewhere out there, their melody is still playing: soft, almost tender, but with a salty aftertaste. And while the world pretends nothing happened, inside everything is screaming, "No more." But you always want just one more nite - so it becomes clear why love so often looks like a mistake with a perfect arrangement.