And Chopin's days of playing the wind spectrum month

【Writer's Vest】

Chopin sat obediently on the carriage, perfectly interpreting the sitting posture standard of a gentleman.He didn't look sideways, his gaze firmly locked on his bare hands.The interior of the carriage was very quiet, except for the voices of people on the street, only the turning of the axle and the raising and lowering of horseshoes could be heard.

For a young man who dare not even raise his eyes, don't even expect him to raise his head, so he has to let him immerse himself in the small world of self-entanglement.Chopin couldn't imagine what happened at Aurora's house just now. Could he, who is reserved and introverted, have such an uncontrollable and wild expression?

He would take the initiative to hug his tits in a way close to Meng Lang, and arbitrarily asked his fiancee not to confide sweet words to others. He even hoped that everything in the world would disappear at that moment, so that his Aurora could only looked at him.

What insanity, what disrespect, what savagery, what insane behavior and thought!

The enthusiasm that had finally subsided began to show signs of rising again, Chopin clasped his fingers tightly and forced himself to calm down.But Aurora's posture like a kitten in his arms, and her obedient and charming response, kept repeating in his mind.

The tip of the ear was almost burnt.

Her softness, her fragrance, her warmth... as long as he recalls it, he can break all his calmness and reserve, and in an instant, the heart that is silent in the night will be turned into the day and night of the four seasons.

Chopin was out of control.

Because of love, the Pole feels his own unusualness - he can not be like a pool of stagnant water, he can express his inner emotions naturally, and he can also be haunted by a person, so sweet that he is secretly sad.

I just wish I could slap myself awake, how can a gentleman miss a lady so much—even if she is his fiancée.

The one who needed to rebuild the gentleman's etiquette was indeed himself.

"Don't worry, Mr. Fiance, I really love Chopin—"

"I will make a pilgrimage, but I will not sacrifice my love to my gods."

There was a throbbing pain in his heart for no reason, and the young man suddenly folded his hands folded on his knees.The tough nail and the soft flesh bite together, and there are shallow crescent marks on the palm.

Pisson and Chopin are like his two sides torn apart.

All non-Chopin emotions come to life in Pisson.Like a creature locked in a cramped and dark space, he finally opened the door and embraced the beautiful world under the sun again.This he is free and willful, he can lose his temper and repent frankly, his heart is almost undisguised - all can be shown in front of Aurora and accepted by her tenderly.

Oh Chopin...

The young man closed his eyes and leaned weakly against the backrest.

The surly and volatile composer who is extremely difficult to get along with is what he is unwilling to confess to her, the real him.

Aurora said that Chopin is her god, she is a believer and will not sacrifice her love to God.

How bad it was.

How sweet the last second is, how sad this second is.

According to his temptation to her, Aurora cared about Francois, and could even be called dependent-he admitted that this feeling of being depended on was so good that it gave him infinite vitality and energy every day.

The god who was originally high above was willing to walk the world for his love.He sealed all the divine power and willingly became an ordinary mortal in front of her.

If you can't give love to God, then give your heart to Him who has become a human.

Girl, wait for you to accept everything about me...

I will personally remove all disguises, lead you to the God Realm, be your only believer, and love you with everything I have.

The young man opened his eyes, and he saw the girl leaning against the car window. The wind outside lifted a strand of black hair by her ear, and as it rose and fell, he saw the warm smile on her lips.

Chopin's heart suddenly softened into a puddle of spring water.Originally, he still complained about Aurora sitting across from him—he and she were fiancée, and they had every reason to sit on the same side of the carriage.But now he no longer complains about her choice, because the feeling of being able to see the whole of her in his eyes is so pleasant and warm.

Despicable is despicable, in front of Aurora, Chopin has long lost his arrogance.

If he lost his tits, his world would probably never be full of birds and flowers.

The carriage stopped in front of a huge bookstore, and Chopin was quite surprised to see the final destination.

He remembered Aurora's clever appearance inviting him to get off the car with a wink just now, and chose to give up exploring Miss Titmouse's whimsy.In any case, the time with her is so magical that it doesn't seem to matter where you go.

"Come on, Francois, let's go to Taotao 'Baby'."

Aurora took his hand and dragged him into the shop without any explanation.Chopin's gaze firmly landed on the girl's active hand, and her hand was holding his fingertips. With his good eyesight, he could even see her unusually rounded nails clearly.

A faint smile spread from the youth's blue eyes.Just being held by her like this, he was surrounded by some kind of warm satisfaction.

Walking into the store, bathed in the special fragrance of ink and paper, Chopin watched Aurora happily transform into a free butterfly and began to fly freely in her world.

The young man watched the girl run towards the front desk, and after talking with the clerk in a low voice, he turned around and closed one eye, made a gesture of a gun with his right hand, and shot him in the chest when he was left at the door.

Chopin's breathing was stagnant, and his heart beat hard for no reason.

His right hand touched his left chest, as if a bullet had passed through his chest and hit his soul directly.

The musical notes were suddenly arranged and combined rapidly in front of his eyes, and they came out of the tails and connected to each other.The division of the bar lines, the smooth legato lines, the retracting and releasing of the pedals, the embellishment of the embellishments...all sit safely and securely on the empty stave.

The right hand on Chopin's chest unconsciously fingered the melody on the collar, and the musician's instinct forced him to go to a Pleyel to release them.His breathing slowly became heavy, and this was a thought that was beyond the scope of his inspiration—a perfect and complete final draft that didn't need to be considered or revised at all.

As a composer with a mature style, Chopin has almost never experienced such a crazy and peculiar way of writing.It was as smooth as a dream, too perfect to be real...but those scattered notes had indeed landed in front of his eyes, deeply engraved into his mind.

The composer, who has always been opposed to naming his works, for the first time clearly found a title for this melody of the heart-Chopin would like to call it "the temptation from Aurora" and never change it.

The heart entered the free speed again, and the feeling of loss of rhythm made the young man feel a little numb all over his body.

This piece of music will never appear on his notation paper.They are secret and only belong to Aurora, and Chopin is only willing to play it to her alone.

zal——

Damn, I'm François now, a "writer"!

Chopin turned his head and quickened his pace, he walked towards the opposite direction to Aurora, avoiding her until he calmed down.

The muse of inspiration is right behind him, he can't see or hear, otherwise he will be buried by the ever-increasing notes-he's afraid of being exposed prematurely, he's afraid that he can't help dragging his tits back the next second Go home and play her gods to her.

Common sense, Frederick, calm down, if you don't want to scare Aurora away.

The young man kept hinting and convincing himself, he simply took out the books in the cabinet next to him and forced himself to write those typefaces.

Chopin's sheet music.

His heart calmed down in an instant. These expressions of thoughts, emotions and artistic aesthetics from him day and night made him once again clearly see his other self that was quietly revealed.Different from these rational and neat poetic phrases, it is a sensual, free-spirited and enthusiastic Chopin.

his love.

His Aurora.

His miracle.

After closing the score, Chopin finally had the courage to find his tits - he still likes the world with Aurora.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he turned around, he saw her coming straight towards him.

The girl squinted her eyes and walked slowly step by step.The young man's heart thumped, as if she stepped on his heart with every step.

Alert, bad, dangerous—he backed away step by step until his back was pressed against the bookcase.

"Oh, Aurora?"

Snapped--

The girl slapped the spine of the book next to the young man's ear, and the breeze caused him to tremble.

"Explain, sir, are you wearing a waistcoat?"

bang——

He looked at her meaningful smile and listened to her interesting words, the string in his mind was completely broken.

who I am?where am I?What am I going to do?

The questions from the soul finally converged into one sentence: What did Aurora discover!

"Horse, waistcoat? What are you talking about, Aurora?"

"Oh, dear Monsieur François, then I humbly beg you to explain to your poor bewildered lady-fiancée why she has searched through this bookstore and not even a book signed 'François' Didn't you find the book of Pisong'?"

Her tone was dangerously seductive, she lightly plucked the upright collar of his white village clothes with her fingertips, and her warm breath sprayed on his Adam's apple.

The inside of his mouth was instantly scorched into a desiccated desert, and the beating sound of his heart hit his soul that was about to scream again and again.

"I, my works... are not on those bookshelves you are looking for..."

"uh-huh?"

"Aurora, although, although it is hard to say... I have never published a work under this name-but, my remuneration... is not low."

"Pfft, sir, do you think I'm doubting your financial ability? No, no, no, what I care about is your 'truth'—Francois, are you real? Are you real as a writer?"

"I swear to you, my lady: for some reason, I cannot tell you my byline on the publication at this time. Everything I have is willing to belong to you."

Chopin grabbed Aurora's hand and swore an oath in his most authentic tone.

"Also, if you insist on 'vest'... Isn't it normal for a 'writer' to have one or two 'pen names' to write his own 'works' that are 'inconvenient'..." The young man searched quickly Blinking his pure blue eyes, looking at the examples that can support his words, "For example, Franz, his pseudonym is 'emmprym', you heard me right, this Hungarian turned himself into a girl ..."

The girl's arrogance instantly weakened, and her shiny amber was full of shock.

The young man immediately recovered his breathing, and he began to silently regain control of his and her rhythm.

"You see, even Liszt is like this, why are you being so harsh on me? If you insist on thinking that what I can't say is a 'vest', dear O, then I do have a vest, but your Fran Sowa is not afraid, I am not hiding anything immoral and disloyal from you."

The tit seems to have retracted her arrogant wings, and the young man is satisfied in his heart that he escaped.No, he can't relax yet, he can think of something else to make her completely forget about this dangerous thought.

"If you think I'm wearing a vest to disguise... Aurora, then it's up to you to discover my truth yourself."

Chopin brushed away the hair from Aurora's ear, bowed his head next to her ear, and declared firmly with a low tone that only she could hear.

"I just want to be exposed by you, your me is never fake."

He found out that she was just a paper tiger, her pretentiousness could be crushed by the intimacy from the heart.

Although it was shameful enough, he was also willing to muster up the courage to enjoy such a sweet confrontation with her.

When Chopin raised his head, he found that his tits were looking at him with bright eyes.

"Are you... a pornographic writer? François, according to what you said, the unspeakable writer's identity will be published in a vest...I can only guess this way—ah, I can forget it, I definitely don't Something else—Aurora doesn't know anything!"

I wouldn't write the damn thing if I copied Beethoven—

God, what's going on in Aurora's head, how am I going to keep talking?

Very good, Frederic Chopin, who has never known what love is in this life, was hit by the trump card accidentally thrown by his fiancée.

The composer, who was leaning on the bookcase, was crumbling, his face was flushed, and he wished he could pass out!

作者有话要说：感谢投出地雷的小天使：风信子、xgbsdg2个；bsp;感谢灌溉营养液的小天使：涩仔兽、一飞飞不飞20瓶；小歌、与桢10瓶；仐7瓶；锦书5瓶；白琊3瓶；心悦双鱼、白白白异、桃花醉1瓶。