第七十七章(7/12)

                                                      想念那个眉目俊秀的少年，在教学楼里的初遇，想念那个身影挺拔的少年，在路灯下无言的悲伤，想念那个执起我的手，诉说着誓言的他，想念着他紧抿着唇，不肯说出口的思念。
                                                                                                                                                                想念着刚刚那个紧张我，心疼我，为了我生病而红了眼眶的沈铎。
                                                                                                                                                                惟将终夜长开眼，报答平生未展眉。
                                                                                                                                                                俗话说，病来如山倒。
                                                                                                                                                                果然不假。
                                                                                                                                                                平时生龙活虎的我被持续的高烧折磨的痛不欲生，嗓子疼的像是有小刀片在刮，每天打三四个吊瓶，可还是不见好，一到晚上，准又烧起来。
                                                                                                                                                                沈铎也没有好到哪里去，这几天他寸步不离，亲自给我熬粥，手都被烫出了小水泡，还兴高采烈的说：“你上次给我做菜手臂烫出了小水泡，这次我给你熬粥，也烫出了小水泡。缘分吧？”
                                                                                                                                                                我气得直翻白眼：“这叫什么缘分！”
                                                                                                                                                                “等闲人可不是每次做饭都会烫出来的。”
                                                                                                                                                                无聊的人！
                                                                                                                                   

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