清晨五点半,窗外有薄光透过浅色窗帘渗进来,周行衍将手里的毛巾丢到水盆里,人站起来坐进床边的沙发,有点疲惫地垂着眼。
深色木质桌面上阴影打下来,向歌捏着个酒瓶子抬起眼来,看看他,又看看还剩大半盘的刺身,有点舍不得的站起来了,“走吧。
”
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