Forced to focus on daily life [Comprehensive English and American]

After Harry Osborn was pushed out of the operating room by the medical staff, he was sent directly to a single ward. In the ward, there was a TV, a sofa, all the hotel facilities, and a gentle-looking When the female nurse came to give him an injection every day, she would also put a vase of flowers by his bedside.

Whether it was morning rounds or nurses changing dressings, every medical staff who came to his ward was silent, and he didn't bother to raise his eyelids to see the expressions of these people, he would only look up slowly after they left. First, glance at the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table.

He didn't know much about flowers, and he didn't know the name of this flower. He only felt that the light yellow petals were fresh and delicate, adding a few touches of color that seemed to be beating to the pale ward.

This is not the first time he came to the hospital. When his father was hospitalized with a leg injury, he stayed with his father in the hospital for a long time. The impression that the hospital gave him, except for the busy and orderly medical staff, was endless. The noise may be the groaning/groaning of a person who is suffering from an injury, or it may be the cry of a person who has just been separated from life and death.24 hours a day, every hour of this kind of story can happen, and he can also use these voices to watch these stories that have nothing to do with him.

It's just that when it was his turn, there was only deathly silence around him.

His ward was so quiet that after the medical staff left the ward and closed the door, he could still hear their sporadic conversations.

"Are agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. still guarding him?"

"You are still so young, I don't know why you took this path?"

"What relationship do you say he has with that night witch..."

"..."

He stared at the bouquet of flowers and thought about it carefully. The story between him and Rosie didn't seem so complicated and rough.

It's just that he moved to a new residential area with his father, and when he was bored, he found a young girl with blond hair and blue eyes and a bright smile in the next door.She was four years older than him, a literature major in college in New York, and he'd seen boys hang around her door once, and she seemed popular at school.

There is no shortage of girls like this in school. There are countless girls who are prettier than her and gentler than her. They just nodded or greeted each other with a smile at the beginning, making a pair of ordinary neighbors.

Until one day, the neighbor girl's smile suddenly became a little weird.

The smooth and smooth gentleness in the past seems to be stuck during the playback, and the smile on the corner of the mouth is blunt and forced.

He suddenly became a little curious about her.

This seems to be the beginning of the story.

And as for the passing... He thought about it carefully, and there was nothing special about it, but every night he looked at the window on the second floor of the next door, peeping at the girl behind the window reading and listening to music, oh Yes, and smoking.

When she smoked, she changed her usual cute and cute appearance. The cyan smoke rose up, blurring her outline and blurring her eyes. Only when her eyes occasionally glanced in his direction, she was lazy and casual. The staring eyes made him involuntarily shrink back to the side of the window, his back straightened, and he pressed against the cold wall tightly, trying to cool down his hot skin.

She smokes without telling anyone.

She looks very attractive when she smokes.

And only I know.

17-year-old Harry Osborne felt that New York was big and populous, but he was the only one who knew the secret of Rosie Mathers. She was special to him, and correspondingly, he was also special to her. of.

……

On the ninth day of hospitalization, the back of Harry Osborn's left hand was covered with needle holes. The nurse complained that he could not find the needle entry point on this left hand for ten minutes, and then inserted the intravenous needle into his right hand the back of the hand.This made him a little unaccustomed, and his brows frowned slightly.

"Does it hurt?" the nurse asked.

"No...it doesn't hurt," he said.

This was the first time he spoke in so many days, and there was a rather strange feeling when his voice came out, as if even his own voice had become unfamiliar.

The nurse probably didn't expect him to respond to her, she was stunned for a while, and then smiled: "I thought you didn't want to talk."

He smiled politely, raised his eyes to the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table, and asked, "What kind of flower is this?"

"This?" The nurse looked back, "Wen Xinlan."

"Wen Xinlan..."

"Yes, people in the VIP ward come to exchange flowers every day. During this time, it's Wen Xinlan."

"It's beautiful," he said.

The nurse raised her hand to adjust the speed of the infusion, packed up the medical waste, and was about to leave when she glanced back at him and saw him staring at the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table, thought for a while, and said, "You... You have been staying in the hospital for a long time, and you may not know the situation outside, what do you want to know?"

Harry turned his face sideways, looked at her, and crooked the corners of his lips: "Thank you, no."

It wasn't until the nurse left the ward, closed the door, and the whole ward fell into silence again, that he relaxed his straight waist, leaned his upper body against the head of the bed, tilted his head, looked towards the window, and said: "Since you're here to visit someone, why don't you even show your face?"

The curtains that were slightly covering the window shook slightly, and a brown-haired head appeared on the windowsill. Then, the man grasped the window lattice with both arms, and the whole person rolled into the room in a chic and neat manner.

This is a young man about his age, with a worn canvas schoolbag hanging on his shoulder.

When he saw the other person's face, he smiled: "It's hard for you to find it here, Peter."

Peter pretended to be relaxed and smiled, then rushed to the hospital bed in three or two steps, put the canvas schoolbag on the floor, and sat on the single sofa beside the hospital bed. From the sitting posture, it could be seen that he was a little nervous and also Or worry.

"I'm fine," said Harry, "in the hospital for a few days and then I can go back."

"Can I go back to Midtown High?" Peter asked.

"That probably won't work." Harry said with a smile, "I've dropped out of school."

Peter lowered his head and whispered, "We agreed to go to Empire State University together."

The smile on Harry's face faded, and he stretched out his left hand and patted Peter's shoulder: "I don't think I can do it this year, but I believe in you, Peter."

……

Rosie Mathers became Prom Queen at Empire State University's homecoming dance the year before, and a photo of her wearing the prom queen's laurel crown was posted on the Empire State University campus forum front page.It was still that slightly unnatural smile, even a little flustered.

For the first time, Harry Osborn was a little annoyed that he hadn't been born a few years earlier, otherwise they could have been in the same school, maybe the same class, and even replaced the boy standing next to her, becoming the prom emperor back then, leading Stepping into the dance floor with her hands in hand, he admired her helplessness which was totally different from usual and when she was smoking.

Unfortunately, there are not so many ifs.

He only saved the photo in his mobile phone, and then bumped his good friend Peter with his elbow: "Peter, tell me, how is Empire State University?"

He found a hundred good things about this school, but he never told others what really made him want to go to this school.

Not even Peter knew.

……

"I didn't expect Miss Mathers to be the Night Witch."

Harry listened to Peter's thoughts and smiled, he had never thought about this possibility.

"Do you really hate the Night Witch that much?" Peter asked, looking at him.

"Hate it," said Harry, "but I hate her even more for being Rosie Mathers."

The person I hate the most is actually played by the person I secretly like. Love and hate, these two strong feelings are intertwined, even Harry Osborn himself doesn't know, what a complicated feeling this is .

After thinking for a long time, he looked at Peter and asked in a low voice, "Is she okay?"

"She's on the other side of this hospital, and she's recovered from her injury a long time ago, but Mrs. Mathers watches her so strictly that she can't even watch TV." Peter said with a smile, "By the way, she has another sentence Let me bring it to you."

Harry looked sideways at him.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

……

After Rosie finished saying this to Peter, she adjusted the radio. The second half of "Last Christmas" just came from this small and retro radio. She raised her eyebrows, as if a little surprised: "It's still so late in this time period." Anyone play this song?"

Tony took the radio out of her arms, put it on the bedside table of the hospital bed, and said lightly: "It's never too late to say 'Merry Christmas'."

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This is the end of this article, thank you for your company along the way.

Next, let’s meet again in the romantic chapter of vampires =3=Thanks to the little angels who voted for the overlord or irrigated the nutrient solution for me~

Thanks to the little angel who irrigated [nutrient solution]:

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Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!

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