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瞎眼,渣英文,大神们请无视
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POV是Nerdanel
The vast black sea roared before us. Foams spilled
from where the waves crashed with jutting rocks. And I couldn’t help inhaling sharply:
“Just another wonder you have led me to,
Feanaro! Look at the precipice – are you not thinking of the half-finished statue
in Aule’s forge?”
“I disagree. The crude rock is not even worth
comparison to Aule’s delicate works, though given a chisel I may be able make a
statue of Aule out of it.” He observed earnestly.
“You completely missed the point!” I beamed
at being able to outmatch him again in observation, “It’s the green spot at the
upper-left corner! See? A symbol of growth, like the green gem we’re going to
put on the statue’s diadem!”
He scowled and I laughed, the sound carried
afar in the bitter gales.
“I was just joking! All the time you spend in
court doing princely affairs is certainly harming your creativity.” I threaded
my fingers nimbly into his severely braided hair and undid it. The silky, raven
mane flared in the wind and I shoved it away impatiently to reveal the most
kissable spot.
His eyes widened as my tongue worked its
way in to his mouth. Of course, we had done that before – but each time I was
able to surprise him with the intensity. And then it had never been under such conditions
– the sea, the salt smell in the air, the inexplicable rocks and distant, sharp
cries of seagulls. I could lose myself in it – actually, I was losing as he
grabbed my waist and held me ever more tightly against him. A loose piece of cloth
fluttered querulously between us and our hand met as we ridded each other of that
minor disturbance and all its likeness.
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