father - home

I stroked the thin calluses on Zhao's fingertips, and I had an idea, and I had a topic in my mind to distract him. "Zhao, are you using double guns?"

"Huh? No." Zhao raised his head and looked at me inexplicably.

"Then this is the left hand, why does it seem..."

"Oh!"

Only then did we realize that the two of us had been holding hands together, we let go almost at the same time, and pulled our hands back.Zhao's face immediately turned red, and I also felt a fever on my face, and I didn't know what to do in embarrassment.

"It's not the trigger, it's the string." Zhao lowered his eyes, stroking his fingers, intentionally avoiding my gaze, and said in a low voice.

In fact, he is superfluous, and I don't know where to turn my eyes now.

"String?" I got excited like grabbing a life-saving straw, "You can play the violin?!"

Zhao nodded slightly. "Um!"

"You wait..." I didn't care whether Zhao understood or not, I rushed out the door as if I was running for my life.

I ran all the way to the dormitory and brought my "Amadi" violin. (Note: 500 years ago, a man named Andrea Amati gave birth to the modern violin in Cremona, Italy.) When I returned to the ward out of breath, Zhao had regained his composure with a smile on his face. waiting for me.

I opened the case, took out my beloved violin, and wiped it gently with suede.

The moment he saw Qin, Zhao's eyes shone with the most brilliant light.The body actually sat upright all of a sudden, you know, how painful it is for Zhao now to sit upright on the bed.

"I did the right thing." I thought with relief, and handed the piano to Zhao.

Zhao wiped his hands vigorously on the quilt before taking the piano carefully.Zhao strokes the piano, no, it's not touching, it's feeling, feeling, listening.The gaze follows the slender, beautiful fingers and slides slowly over the shiny surface of the piano; lifts the piano to the ear, and gently plucks the strings; in the vibration and reverberation of the strings, the heart spreads its wings ...

I hold the bowstring in front of Zhao.

Zhao slightly shook his head.

"why?"

"long time."

"Try it."

Zhao look at me.I nodded, encouraging him.Zhao finally took the bowstring.

Tchaikovsky's Melody.In the melodious and wonderful music, my eyes are moist.

The sound of the piano stopped abruptly, and Zhao Tuo leaned against the head of the bed forcefully.With his mouth slightly open, he was panting heavily, his chest was heaving, and there was another thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

"Zhao, if I have a chance in the future, I will definitely be your piano accompaniment." Although it was only a few bars, the sound of the piano has already captured my heart.

With the violin, Zhao's mood improved a lot, and his body gradually became stronger.I still insist on staying by his side as much as possible.

On this day, Zhao suddenly asked me: "How long has it been since you slept in bed?"

I was taken aback.Yeah, it's been a long time, more than a month if you don't count the day I went home for Christmas.

"I'm much better now, nothing will happen tonight, you can go back to the dormitory to sleep tonight."

"No!" I shook my head firmly. "I'm sleeping in the office, there's a sofa there."

It was a single sofa.Put two chairs in front of the sofa, where I usually sleep.It's just that the sofa is not as high as the chair, there is at least a five-centimeter difference, and the texture is also different, one is soft and the other is firm.So when I wake up, I always have a backache.Sometimes the posture is not correct, and the hands and feet will be numb, as uncomfortable as needles, and it will take a long time to recover.

Even so, I still want to stay here, especially at night, and I can't let what happened last time happen again.

Ernst once suggested adding a hospital bed to the ward.But later, we all felt that it was wrong. Isn't this self-inflicted?

"Don't worry. It's very comfortable to sleep on the sofa."

"Are you sure."

"Don't worry. If I can't sleep well at night, how can I have the energy to take care of you during the day?"

I am glad that Zhao has not seen that sofa, he has not left the ward.

At night, I sat beside Zhao's bed, propped my cheeks with my hands, and watched Zhao close his eyes and slowly fall asleep.I also relaxed, tilted my hands, lay down on the side of the bed, and fell asleep.

"Hi!" With a low voice, I was gently pushed awake. "Go to bed!"

I obediently obeyed the voice, took off my coat in the dark, and went to bed.

The wooden bed couldn't bear the weight of two people, so I made a "creaking" moan, and I quickly stopped turning over.

The stiff hair was tied on my cheek, and Rulan's breath was blowing on my neck.Holding my breath, I rolled over slowly, facing outward, with my arms crossed in front of my chest, and I remained in this position until dawn.

When I got up, it was twilight, and Zhao seemed to be still asleep.I watched for a while, his eyelashes seemed to be moving, and his lips were also moving.oh god!I was facing him, and my breath hit his face.I quickly hid back and almost fell off the bed, which made a lot of noise.

I stood firm, and looking again, Zhao was still very serene, his posture unchanged. "What a boy, you actually pretended to be asleep." I scolded with a smile in my heart.But what if Zhao opened his eyes at this moment... I ran away quickly and went back to the office to wash up.

When we saw Zhaoshi again, we said good morning to each other, as if nothing happened and last night was just a dream.The next day, and the night of the third day, I had the same dream.After that, I looked forward to the night every day, so that I could continue to dream.

I walked into Zhao's ward, after a busy day's work.It was like this almost every day, my heart was pounding wildly.Akira was half lying down, wearing my blue cashmere sweater, leaning on the bed.He is always reading a book, or thinking about it. Under the light, his hair is black and shiny, and his eyes are shining like jewels.I tucked him under the quilt, and it has been snowing non-stop for a week, and the nights are always cold with insufficient heating.Just the two of us - we think it's just the two of us - in this rough ward, no declarations of love, no kisses, just silence... other than that it's a feverish, passionate conversation, we're talking about our own Hometown, family, music, books...we experience a strange happiness...this urgency to discover each other's inner world...a lover's urgency that has become a dedication, a dedication of the soul before the sacrifice of the body. "Know me, look at me. I am like this. This is what I have been through, this is what I have loved. What about you, my love?" But until now, there has been no confession of love.what's the function?These words are of no use, at this moment of change of tone, of trembling lips, of this long silence... I get the satisfaction of my heart, and the burning desire... I look forward to , endure suffering in anticipation, experience happiness in anticipation.

(Note: This paragraph is rewritten from the "French Suite" by French female writer Irene Nemirowski. The reason why I must put this paragraph here is because I like this paragraph so much, I like this paragraph so much I admire this talented, ill-fated French female writer Irene Nemirowski too much.)