And Chopin's days of playing the wind spectrum month

favored by angels

"If I can't write the music I should write because of who I'm with, it's definitely not who's problem, it's my problem-I'm a failed composer... a real musician, I will not forget my music because of some external environment or interpersonal changes.”

"What I've carved into my soul doesn't get lost so easily—so, stop being such a fool."

"I'm not curious what your 'my future' looks like, Aurora, everything has changed, it's real now. Ah, of course, I don't deny that what you know about me has not yet been born His work does indeed arouse my interest, but I have no intention of asking you to tell me, nor will I confirm to you..."

"Get rid of those inherent expectations-because, dear, you just have to look at me and you will know that I am definitely better than you know me."

Probably when God created man, he inadvertently poured too much tenderness into this soul. For the sake of balance, he put on a coat of sensitivity and fear of the crowd.

Chopin is like this. His tenderness is personal, and he will not open it easily, and only distribute it to the small group of people he has designated; but the tenderness he wrote in music is given back to the world, as long as someone is willing to stop and listen, the phrase The consolation in it will soothe everyone.

Aurora was comforted, not only for Chopin's music, but also for himself.

For such a gentle person, there is probably no other better way than to love him more than yesterday.

The gods don't seem to think so.

Chopin fell ill, very suddenly.

The comfortable trip to Mallorca was originally closer because there were no secrets, but after an ordinary evening walk, the destination of the brown-haired young man was changed to a bed, where he lay for a week.

After the high fever subsided, there was a boundless cough...

The three best doctors on the island, one said he was dead after analyzing the sputum coughed up by Chopin, one said he was dying after knocking on his chest, and the other only poked his body and said he was not far from death ...Although Aurora doesn't like doctors very much, at the moment she only thinks that Western medicine in this era is simply full of straws.

Tuberculosis, this is the most reliable diagnosis left by this group of quack doctors.

There was no symptomatic medicine, and after driving away the doctors who were not very useful, Chopin weakened visibly.

Aurora knew that the historical trip to Mallorca was not as good as imagined.The pianist would move to the monastery entirely because of his expulsion after being diagnosed with tuberculosis and reporting it as required by the local government-according to the local law, anything that a tuberculosis patient has touched must be burned, so he was also banned by the innkeeper. A repair fee was charged.Not only that, because of Sang's "extraordinary" behavior, the residents of the small town arbitrarily raised prices and even refused to sell ingredients to them.

Chopin did get sick once in Mallorca, but he caught the wind chill unfortunately in winter—Aurora had already adjusted his travel time to the warmer months. It must be warmer than winter.

Simply, they came to the monastery early, where it was remote and quiet enough, and interpersonal communication was simple to monotonous. "Deportation" appeared unnecessary, and the instructions only said to keep patients in their rooms unless they chose to leave Mallorca.Given that they are in a legal relationship, no matter in appearance or in reality, they did come here for a trip, and this couple will also appear in the church on Sunday. Even if they know that the male master is sick, the accompanying maid will not be charged extra for buying food. embarrassment.

History seems to have not changed and it seems to have changed.

Even if something is inevitable, all is not as difficult as it once was known to be.

……

Chopin opened his eyes weakly, and the warmth from his palms made him unable to ignore it.For this ice-like body, the temperature in his palm is no less than that of his favorite fireplace in winter.

Aurora lay on his palm and fell asleep by the window.

The pain made it difficult for him to fall asleep, but he prayed hard to lose his strength earlier so that he could fall asleep exhausted.The coughing and suffocation that caused him to collapse countless times once again deprived Chopin of his few joys.

He goes to hell every time he visits from illness, and goes to heaven once when he falls asleep. When he opens his eyes, all the dull and real perceptions are clamoring that he is still in the world.

He remembered Mrs. Dagu's ridicule "Chopin? What is more familiar than his name is his cough".How wise this lady is, she saw his original sin at a glance.

The fingertips moved slightly, and the soft touch made Chopin stop all movements for an instant.Taking care of him when he was sick was no easy task, and he didn't want to disturb Aurora's hard-won breathing time.

The young man turned his head, the tall windows only had a thin layer of plain white curtains.The sun seems to be swirling in the bunch of light spots, and the mottled shadows of the trees when the wind blows are reflected on the curtains... Everything is the same as before, calm and simple, peaceful and beautiful.

He was the only one who was bad—from body to heart and lungs.

The cough gradually climbed up the throat again.Chopin quickly covered his lips with his other hand, trying to suppress his cough.

However, the shaking of his body still woke up Aurora.

After being brushed and breathed, a glass of warm water with a faint pear flavor after the cough stopped... When Chopin was able to breathe well while leaning against the pillow, the black and blue under Aurora's eyes clearly appeared in his hazy vision.

For a moment, he felt that he was much better, or that he was not feeling better at all.

"Aurora, after returning to Paris this time, just give up on me..."

"What nonsense, François, no way!"

The first sentence of the piano poet recently was met with ruthless refutation.

He smiled reluctantly, but was not surprised at all.

"What will you do if I die tomorrow, or next month, or next year..."

Chopin took Aurora's hand, beckoning her to approach, and then with all his strength, touched hers with his forehead.There was no wave in the blue eyes, and after the smile faded away, only sincere worry and distress remained on his face.

"I'm scared……"

Fear of dragging you down.

Afraid of not being able to accept your departure.

Fear is more painful than me alone, leaving you sad for a long time alone.

After meeting you, it turned out to be such a terrible thing to misjudge my body.

"François, I'm not going to play 'Chopin' anymore..."

Her words made him stunned for a moment, and a blank flashed in his mind.He stared at her with wide eyes, no longer elegant and handsome, but a little silly.

Chopin noticed that Aurora showed an indescribable smile—if he had to describe it, it should be a rainbow that rarely appeared after the rain, not the brilliance that just appeared, but the blurred expression when it was about to disappear.

"I think, now is not the time for me to play you. Rather than playing you publicly, I want to listen to your performance-I want to learn back every touch of your key, every breath, every expression of emotion... …

"When you're here, I just have to listen to you; when you're not, I'll play you and miss you with the world.

"It's you who are really stupid... You forget that I am a 'pianist', you don't have to think about what will happen to me without you-it is really hard, as hard as losing your heart, but I will live well, Because you live in my piano. Only when I play the piano again and again can I see you.

"It takes courage to fall in love with Chopin. I know better than anyone what I have to face. Sir, I have no fear. Rather than push me away and let me fall into pain prematurely, you might as well make me remember You, so that when I think of you, happiness is always greater than pain.

"I have only one answer - never, Frederic Chopin."

He was completely surrounded by a hug, and suddenly it seemed that water droplets escaped from his eyes.

The weakness of his illness did not prevent him from wrapping his arms around his lover, and once locked, she could never leave.

Chopin is a paranoid and possessive person, especially after he expresses his love and gets used to the inherent warmth around him.

He had found his caged bird, and he would not set her free until the chickadee no longer wanted to sing for him.

Dear Aurora, I want to write more and more songs...

Even if, even if one day I will be played Mozart's funeral march, I hope that when you sit in front of the piano and play Chopin, you can see me in different costumes every day, and tell you tenderly——

"I love you, good morning".

Carrying a small basket on her shoulders, Aurora was shopping for supplies in the less-than-crowded market in a rural town.

Although it is a market, it is actually just two sides of a road, where shops with the function of selling goods gather.

Chopin has been recovering well lately, and the other day he even ditched the traveling keypad and got out of bed to play a short piece of Mozart on the Pleyel piano.

Everything is going in the right direction.The young man whose cough gradually subsided strongly urged Aurora to go out to relax today, otherwise he would refuse to eat.

What evil could the Poles have in mind?

Aurora thought of his usual serious negotiating appearance, and a smile spread from the corner of his mouth.

There is a fresh scent of lemons and sweet oranges in the air.As soon as the girl looked up, she saw that the fruit stand in front of her was filled with a bunch of attractive cuties.

With a flash in her eyes, the turbulent little basket might have a use.

……

Chopin leaned against the houses beside the road, panting slowly.

Although he was a little tired, the feedback from his body was just right. Thanks to Miss Titmouse’s leisurely pace, at least he didn’t feel tired after dragging his body recovering from a serious illness. After Aurora left the monastery, the young man walked carefully Follow her all the way to the market.

Breathing evenly, Chopin looked at Aurora who was holding an orange and sniffing lightly, his eyes were as soft as clouds.

His lover will shine, and the warm back seems to be stained with the aroma of fruit, which makes his heart feel happy.

It seemed that he couldn't bear her not being by his side anymore - even though she was not far ahead, separated by a path, she couldn't escape his sight at all.

Following the unstoppable thought in his heart, he called her name suicidally, like a dream.

After handing over the small basket, the tit froze slightly. She looked left and right, and finally turned around neatly.

Seeing her standing where the sunlight reaches, every thorn on the hedgehog's body seemed to soften.

"Francois—"

In his eyes, she opened her arms happily and ran towards him.

"Be careful! My horse is frightened, get out of the way—"

The girl subconsciously glanced at the source of the sound, and stood in the middle of the path in a daze.

The neighing of the horses, the dust splashed by the hoofs hitting the ground, the screaming crowd, and the flying mane gradually enlarged and became clear in the pupils.

bang.whine.

The scattered fruits bounced and left marks on the ground, rolling in all directions.The dusty air is instantly filled with the fragrance of broken fruits.

heartbeat.temperature.

Lost in an instant, after confirming that he was holding the treasure in his arms, he began to recover with lingering fear.

The heart beats like a piano string trembling after being hit.

The body temperature, which suddenly dropped to freezing point, warmed up like the rest of his life.

Chopin's blank mind suddenly flashed the image of the horse passing by in front of his eyes, and his frightened eyes reflected the mess of the opposite fruit stand being knocked over by the horse.

The horse, where Aurora had just stood, slipped and fell into the pile of fruit.

If he didn't reach out...

If he slowed down by a beat...

If he hadn't grabbed her arm...

Chopin didn't dare to make those what-if assumptions. For the first time, he yelled at his beloved.

……

"what are you thinking!"

Frightened reprimands exploded in his ears, and Aurora's roaring head gradually became able to process the messages from his ears.

Chopin's voice was full of fear.She was held tightly in his arms, and the back of her head was pressed by trembling palms—even if she didn't have to look, the whining of the horses and the noise around her all indicated that she was about to experience something.

What is she thinking?

Aurora just returned to the scene of the car accident in an instant, even though she saw the horse galloping towards her, she couldn't move her feet at all.

"I almost, almost lost you!"

She looked at his red eyes, and the belated panic began to make her breathless.

Except for guttural sounds, she couldn't speak half a word.

"Aurora..."

He didn't speak, patted her on the back, and hugged her gently again.He rubbed against her neck, silently comforting her and himself.

Aurora raised her left hand tremblingly.

Ugly scars gradually appeared on the smooth back of her hand—her breathing was almost stagnant, and tears rolled in her eyes.The moment she was approaching hypoxia, she saw the scars gradually disappearing, the back of her hand was as smooth as ever, and everything was like a dreamlike illusion.

Tears were like broken beads, she hugged her lover back and sobbed in his arms.

"Francois, you are an angel...and I, who was favored by an angel..."

Regardless of the past and the future, "Chopin" has saved her countless times.

Aurora seemed to suddenly understand the reason why she came to this world - people who were saved by the angels would not go anywhere except to return the same things to the angels.

Aurora's world is a piano.

And her home is here with Chopin.

"You scare me, Aurora..."

"I'm sorry, François, I promise—I promise I'm going nowhere but by your side."

……

The encounter between her and him began with a melodious nocturne in the evening when the setting sun disappeared.

The first encounter between him and her, in the misty morning light, also began with this Chopin Nocturne.

Whether in the past or in the future, those who have found each other will never let go;

Whether it's the early morning light or the setting sun, the people who have already held hands only have each other in their eyes and nothing else.