Chapter 24 Do you want sugar cubes?

"Any more sugar cubes, Chartres?" The blond man was standing by the coffee table, holding a cup of fragrant coffee.Ever since he learned how to grind the best coffee beans to a fine powder, and how to cook the alcohol lamps well, he used to make me some nice refreshing drinks. "Okay, thank you." I put down the pen in my hand, smiled and nodded to him. He put the coffee on the left corner of my desk, then sat on the chair next to me and continued to read the stack of documents.This ex-military took over from my old secretary and did a good job.He learned quickly what he was supposed to do and adapted quickly to life in the French countryside.

The sun cast a bright outline on his face; although the burn scar from his left cheek to his neck was still obvious, he was no longer haggard like a few months ago, the color gradually returned to his cheeks, and his dull blond hair Be brilliant and charming again.What's more, I can hardly find any gloomy colors in him, those sharp sarcasm and vicious violence are gone, and this person is only peaceful in front of me, a kind of serene to quiet peace. He was really reborn, as if he had become another person. As if feeling my gaze, he raised his head and smiled, his beautiful blue eyes were like gemstones: "Am I good-looking, Chart?"

I turned my head and coughed in embarrassment; fortunately, in the Armand manor, no one else could see my embarrassment, otherwise, with his character of equating "shame" with "hypocrisy", I'm afraid he would have given up socially. The circle provides countless sources of conversation. "I'm in my thirties and still blush so easily, Chartres, can't you show your admiration for me a little more reserved?" What is he talking about! I picked up the cup and turned to him: "Uh... I just wanted to tell you that the taste of the coffee has improved a lot this time, and Mr. Marler (Author: Does anyone remember where this bearded boss is in Paris?) It’s not inferior to cooking.”

He paused, and did not show a smug expression as usual, but put down the document thoughtfully, put his elbows on the table, and looked at me: "Tell me, Charte, you... really don't reply Is it Paris?" My heart skipped a beat, and then I smiled, "Even if I'm not in Paris, there's such a great coffee, so it doesn't matter if I go back or not." He grabbed my left hand: "Is it because of me?" I put down the glass and didn't speak. I can keep an independent and peaceful world in Armand Manor, but I can't return to the original life; Living in Paris, not to mention the fact that he still has French blood on his hands.And I can't just tell my friends that I'm with this guy now, even though he risked his life to save them.

"Isn't it good to stay here forever?" I said to him as calmly as possible. "The war is over, and everything has to start again, including our life. I don't think we need to adapt to the prosperity of the metropolis. " He held my hand, warm skin against mine, dry and rough.I don't want to break free because I'm the only thing he can hold on to now, the only thing he wants to hold on to. I can tell from his eyes that he is happy now, and it's such a relief for him to be able to say that for a long time. Joy slowly overflowed from his clenched hands, and strangely enough, I couldn't help but smile too.

People's feelings are really unpredictable. I used to hate him so much, I hated him so much that I wanted to turn myself into a fire and die with him; I felt sorry for him, because he was so lonely for a long time that only his own shadow remained. I have given my sincerity to my relatives in a strange way, but did not get any response, and was even almost murdered; I am also grateful to him, he can save me and my friends again and again, and put himself at gunpoint over and over again ; And now, these emotions have melted into another deeper thing, branded in my heart, since when did it start... Was it the night when he invited me to spend my birthday together, or was it because of seeing the scar on his shoulder? It's hard to keep calm when I'm wounded...

I don't want to be a mere recipient anymore, I want to be fair to him. Slowly handing over my other hand, I leaned over to him: "There is no need to miss Paris anymore, Rostock, December is coming soon, what we should consider is where to choose a beautiful tree Christmas tree, buy a lot of firewood and charcoal, we can hide in the house when the snow piles up outside, don't you still want to listen to "Moonlight"..." The sudden force brought me into a firm embrace, the heavy blond head was hanging on my shoulders, the fingers around my waist made me feel pain, and the fiery breath poured in from the neckline all at once, the temperature on the skin Somewhat hot.

I was stunned for a moment, then reached out and climbed onto the man's shoulder, strenuously stroking his hair, which was soft and completely different from his personality: "I'm sorry...I'm a stubborn person, Rostock...very stubborn... ...I can't forget Marisa, but I treat you the same...So, what I have decided will not change...You don't have to blame yourself, and don't worry any more." His breath brushed against my skin quickly, we stood like statues in the study room in the afternoon, the breeze sent the last faint scent of coffee into my nose, at this moment he moved, and finally whispered in my ear Asked: "Chart, do you want more coffee..."

"Yes." I regret that he didn't see my smile at the moment, "add another sugar cube." ... Thank God, as long as you are happy, even if it is an ordinary life...