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傅玉爸妈的房子远比他在公司附近的公寓大,闹中取静,坏境优美。傅玉的卧室宽敞整洁,因为爱看书,所以连卧室都有一排书柜,萧逸拉过傅玉坐到自己身边,背靠着chuáng坐在铺着素色厚地毯的地上,柔软又舒适。
“你爸妈有说什么吗?”他轻捏着傅玉的手问。
“他们让我一定要好好谢谢你,珍惜你这个朋友。”傅玉诚实地说。
萧逸嘴角微扬,带着一丝调戏:“那你要怎么谢谢我?”
傅玉认真想了想,说:“我给你读首诗吧。”
“……啊?”萧逸仍在迷惑之际,傅玉已经起身从书架上抽出了一本书,重新坐回他身边,翻开其中夹着书签的一页开始读了起来,流利动听的英文在安静房间内缓缓流淌而出:
“I love you,
Not for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.”
念完之后,傅玉合起书眼睛亮亮地看着萧逸:“我以前读这诗的时候体会不到作者的心境,也不知道到底是在歌颂爱情还是友情,但现在我好像明白了。”
萧逸听得都痴了,眼里温柔无限,轻声道:“我也爱你。”
傅玉一怔,突然反应过来自己刚刚念诗时说了不知道说了多少声“I love you”,顿时有些不好意思了:“你只听到了这句吗,我还读了其他很多……”
话还没说完,萧逸已经不由分说地吻了上来,拉着的手变成了十指相扣,轻轻柔柔但饱含深情的吻在两人唇齿间传递,格外甜蜜动人。
一吻毕,萧逸仍贴着傅玉的唇不愿离开,低声似呢喃:“玉玉,我有件事要向你坦白,你别生气……”
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