Back,
They did not take the same road that Anne had taken to get here.
She didn't ask too much. Anyway, the map of London was printed in the smartest brain in England. She just had to follow obediently.
Turning the corner,
Shylock suddenly pushed open the door of a dessert shop.
His long arm leaned against the glass door, waiting for the slender girl behind him to walk over.
Anne stopped at the door and didn't move. She looked up at him. "What?"
Shylock didn't say anything,
His tall figure stood straight,
He tilted his head slightly,
Indicating for her to come in.
Anne's gaze stayed on his expressionless face for another two seconds before she finally walked in.
There weren't many people in the shop,
Shylock glanced casually,
He walked over with his long arms and legs and sat down at a table by the window.
Anne followed and sat opposite him.
She thought he wanted to eat,
Although it seemed a little strange to choose a dessert shop, Anne saw that the person opposite her had a calm expression, so she didn't say anything.
The view from this position was very good,
Through the wide glass window,
One could see the street trees by the side of the road,
And the beautifully decorated small shop across the road.
The rose-red sunset,
Half of it had fallen behind the tall building. The small shop by the street,
Was half immersed in the shadows,
Half of it was illuminated brightly by the setting sun.
This scene..,
Was a little like the first time she and Shylock came to London. This was the same city, but it wasn't.
The young female shop assistant walked over. When Shylock ordered, Anne didn't notice, and he didn't ask her.
As a result, for the next fifteen minutes, Anne watched helplessly as the two shop assistants took turns to put all kinds of desserts on their table.
Looking at the various desserts on the table, Anne looked at the "Nouveau Riche" opposite her in surprise.
"Nouveau Riche" Mr. Holmes glanced at the table full of desserts and said indifferently, "Let's eat."
Then, he took out his phone from his suit pocket and quickly typed on the keyboard with his ten fingers, entering "Low Head Clan" mode.
Obviously, the other party didn't feel that there was anything to explain.
Anne had no choice but to ask herself.
"It's just the two of us. Don't you think it's a little too much?"
Shylock looked away from his phone and glanced at her. He said quickly and seriously, "Although I have my doubts, John insists that sweets can make people happy and have healing properties. Adequate blood sugar does promote the secretion of dopamine, norepinephrine, and adrenaline. These hormones make people feel energetic and full of energy. Although the adjustment of the brain's emotions is temporary, but — "
At this point, he suddenly paused. His gaze was fixed on her overly pale face, and his voice lowered. "Clearly, even a short period of pleasure and relaxation is necessary for your current state."
So you ordered a table full of desserts …
Anne wanted to laugh, but her eyes were wet.
She lowered her head and exhaled.
She was really disappointed with herself because Anne had only found out in the past two days that she was such a fragile person who loved to cry.
After adjusting her emotions, Anne raised her head again. The two of them looked at each other. Anne looked at him and smiled gently.
"Thank you, Shylock."
Her eyes were watery. Her gaze was clear, and there was a faint smile on her lips. It was like a mist quietly floating in the countryside of the 19th century.
Shylock pursed his lips tightly. He lowered his head and looked at his phone again. "Mm."
Anne actually didn't have much of an appetite, but she still picked up her fork and ate in small bites.
After a while, Anne noticed that Shylock's fair and slender fingers started to tap on the table.
Anne raised her head and immediately met a pair of grayish-green eyes. He leaned back in his chair with his legs crossed. He frowned slightly and looked at her intently, as though he was thinking about something related to her.
He seemed to have been looking at her like this for a long time.
Anne stopped and looked at him. "What's wrong?"
Shylock didn't answer immediately. He looked at her with his deep eyes for a few seconds and then suddenly said, "I reached out."
It was a sentence without rhyme or reason.
Anne was even more confused. "What do you mean?"
Shylock's fingers tapped on the table faster. His deep voice seemed to be hiding some kind of emotion.
"Before you fell in, I reached out. So, even if that accident didn't happen, you would have been pulled in by me in the end. "
Anne couldn't tell if his voice was different from usual because she was completely stunned.
After a long time, Anne put down her fork. Her slightly trembling hands were tightly clasped together under the table.
She controlled her emotions and asked softly, "Why?"
Why do you want to pull me into your world?
Shylock looked at her without blinking. It was as though she was a complicated case that needed to be thought deeply.
Why?
He looked at her and tilted his head slightly. There was even a childlike doubt and innocence in his expression.
He said, "Tell me."
Tell me why?
Tell me, at the moment when we were about to separate completely, what was the unfamiliar emotion that kept swelling and rolling in his heart?
At that moment, the rationality that he had always been proud of was almost — no, it was completely suppressed and dominated by this emotion.
He wanted to take her away.
He wanted to take her away.
And he was really prepared to do so …
The sun set very quickly in autumn and winter. The dusk seemed to only last for a moment, and the night slowly seeped in from the end of the sky.
The lights in the shop were turned on. Annie sat under the light and looked up at him in a daze. She looked at him in confusion.
His gray-green eyes were still calm and cold, but his long eyelashes were trembling slightly. His indifferent lips were pursed tightly, and there was no expression on his fair cheeks.
Anne didn't know how long they were silent until Shylock suddenly seemed to be sure of something. He changed his posture in his seat and asked calmly, "Are you done eating?"
Uh. Anne nodded.
Shylock immediately waved for the waiter to settle the bill.
Anne looked at him. He was acting as if their conversation hadn't happened.
Shylock paid the bill and stood up. He saw the blonde girl looking at him blankly. She was still wearing his scarf around her neck. Her pink lips were slightly open, and there was a slightly puzzled expression on her face.
Shylock couldn't help but curl his lips, and then he knocked on the table.
Anne came back to her senses and heard him say casually, "Let's go."
At that moment, Anne had to admit that she was almost angry. Because of his indifferent attitude, and because of what he had just said.
Why did he do that?
Anne felt that she couldn't take it anymore.
To him, was this something that could be joked about?
He said, tell me.
What did he want her to tell him?
Should I tell him that he likes me?
Shylock, you want to pull me into your world because you like me.
Did he want to hear her say that?
But why? Why did she have to tell him just because he wanted to hear it?
Why …
Furthermore …
Why did he want to pull her into his world? Did he ask her about her wishes?
She wasn't willing! She wasn't willing! She wanted her family …
But …
Anne closed her eyes in pain. She didn't want to admit that if Shylock had asked her if she was willing to leave with him …
She would have wavered.
She knew that she wouldn't have nodded. But her heart would have agreed.
So, was this her punishment? Because she wanted to give up her family and choose him …
Anne felt that her head was buzzing again, and her vision was turning black. Her breathing was as heavy as an old bellows, and there was also the sound of her rapid heartbeat.
Very good. She had only been here for a day, and she was going to be hospitalized twice.
Such a broken body …
A pair of large hands suddenly grasped hers.
She was comforted into a warm and safe place, and the strong hands stroked her back gently.
"Anne." She heard his voice, firm, slow, and gentle, just beside her ear. "Can you hear me? Calm down … It's okay, trust me, calm down … "
After a few seconds, Shylock felt a warm liquid wetting the collar of his shirt. Furthermore, the area of wetness was still expanding.
He trembled slightly, and his arms tightened, but he immediately let go. He couldn't hug her too tightly, or she would have trouble breathing.
"Shylock …"
After a while, he heard her muffled voice coming from his arms.
"Mm."
"You can't do that. No matter what the reason is, you can't do that … "
"Okay," he said quickly, "it's my fault."
He actually admitted his mistake so quickly.
But Anne knew that it wasn't his fault. He didn't do anything.
She just felt extremely tired. And she couldn't seem to stop crying. Anne never knew that she could cry so much.
She raised her arms, slowly and tentatively circled his waist, and finally hugged him back gently.
"Shylock …" She liked to call his name so much.
"Yes." His deep voice responded patiently once again.
After a pause, Anne took a deep breath, collected her uncontrollable emotions, and convinced herself to let go of him. She lowered her head, not letting him see her red and swollen eyes.
"We should go," she said softly.
Shylock sat up straight, and his gaze was downcast. His suddenly empty arms stiffened uncomfortably for a while. Then he calmly retracted his arms and stood up from the chair.
Anne also stood up. She looked at the various desserts left on the table and asked the staff to pack them up.
Shylock put his hands in the pockets of his coat and waited quietly.
All the desserts on the table were finally packed into a huge bag. Anne thanked him and reached out to pick it up. She looked at the tall and thin figure, indicating that he could leave.
Shylock lowered his head and glanced at her thin and weak figure. He took his hands out of his pockets and took the bag from her. His other hand naturally held her wrist and turned to walk towards the door.
.
On the first night of the 21st century, Anne thought that she would definitely lose sleep. But she didn't. On the contrary, she slept deeply.
Anne didn't remember when she fell asleep. Mrs. Hudson made the bed warm and comfortable. She lay on it and opened the curtains. She couldn't find the moon, but she could see the dark purple sky covered with bright stars. There were as many as the morning dew on the grass.
She looked at the night sky for a long time. Her mind was clear, and so were her sad emotions.
Then, she suddenly heard the sound of a violin.
It was melodious and soft, as if it had floated down from the distant starry sky. It brought with it the birds in the fields, the fallen leaves, and the morning dew on the grass … all the way to her bedside.
Anne gently raised the corners of her lips. It was Mendelssohn's "E minor."
He remembered.
Anne knew that he must be standing in front of the window at this moment, looking at the same starry sky as her.
She could almost see him, wearing his long blue silk nightgown, his tall and thin figure, the elegant posture of the violin resting on his shoulder, the long and slender fingers that played the strings, and his slightly messy, cute curly hair …
Anne wasn't sure how long he played the violin. Because she fell asleep with these notes as her pillow.
Before she closed her eyes, she whispered in her heart, "Good night, Shylock."
She even thought that she heard his deep reply.
"Good night, Anne."
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