孟维知道他是嘴硬，也不生他的气，而是往他怀里又靠了靠，一手攀着他的肩膀，巴巴儿地抬头望着他说：“我知道你是想我了，想我想得睡不着，你以前就这样过。我也是，无论走到哪里，看到什幺，都能想起你，会去想你会说什幺样的话，会有怎样的表情。”

  欧隽坤与他对视一眼，带着温柔的微笑。

  孟维明明知道答案，可还是想从他口中听到，轻轻地，孟维在他耳边呢喃着：“哥，说嘛，说你在我想着你的时候也一样在想着我。”

  闪烁的莹白星辉之下，欧隽坤低头在他温润诱人的唇瓣上落下一吻，徐徐念起了一首诗歌，那眼神仿佛在味很久很久以前的诸多瞬间：

  i wish i

  could remember the first day,first hour, first moment of your meeting me.

  if

  bright or dim the season, it might be summer or winter fht i say.

  so unrecorded did it slip away,

  so blind was i to see and foresee,

  so dull to mark the budding of my tree

  that would not blossom yet for

  many a may.

  if only i could recollect it, such a day of days!

  i let it

  e and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;

  it seemed to mean so

  little, meant so much;

  if only now i could recall that touch,

  first

  touch of hand in hand.

  那是克里斯蒂娜.罗塞蒂的《第一日》。

  几乎沉醉在美好的氛围和他优美低沉的声线之中。

  即使不用去明说“想念”，一起走过的灿烂夏天或是黯淡冬日都沁透了太多牵绊的细节。

  叫人如何不去碰触？

  “你难道对我是一见钟情幺？不是吧？你以前从来没提过。”

&ems