Chapter 66 Love Poems from Proposal to Dining Table
Even though he had known in advance from the diary that the engagement ring would be handed to him tucked inside a book, Darien was still touched.
It is really hard to describe this feeling. Everything is fake, the memories are fake, the ring is fake, but the person in front of me is real.
There seemed to be genuine tenderness and warmth flickering in his eyes.
It was as if she really hoped that he would marry her.
Strange, why would I think that? Darien lowered his gaze, his mind wandering for a rare moment.
Sewell had already picked up the ring and said, "Will you marry me, Darien?"
Such a proposal is really too simple.
After hearing this, Darien wanted to refuse very much: "I do."
His expression and tone made these words sound like a rejection.
The ring was picked up and was about to be put on him, but he was a little absent-minded and his eyes casually dropped down, accidentally catching sight of the poem on the page.
The page of the book where the ring was placed contained a love poem.
How should I love you?
With kisses, with poetry, with my truest soul.
This is far from enough.
The vibrant summer sun should be your eyes, the first buds of flowers your cheeks...
The ring felt a little cold. Sevier gently lifted Darien's hand and pushed the ring onto his index finger.
"Huh?" Darien asked in confusion.
"What's wrong?" Sewell put down his hand.
"You put it on my index finger. You should propose on your middle finger." Darien raised that finger.
"Okay." Sewell showed a rare embarrassed expression.
He took out the engagement ring from his index finger and put it on Darien's middle finger, which marked a successful proposal.
"The diamond isn't big enough, and I like rubies." Darien put his hands in front of his eyes and commented.
"Okay, I remember." Sewell nodded.
"Yeah." Darien nodded in satisfaction, but his expression suddenly froze. He added, "Don't remember that."
"Huh?" Sewell's face looked a little confused.
Darien didn't explain, but pretended to be busy, flipping through the pages of a book with his head down.
The pages of the book turned, and a few love poems danced under the fingers. If they were really a sweet couple, then this scene would definitely be called romantic.
Unfortunately, Darien only felt endless awkwardness in the air.
After finally making it to eleven o'clock in the morning, he quickly closed his diary and walked towards the place where the carriage was parked on the hillside without looking back.
Seville looked at his back and couldn't help laughing.
Although he doesn't remember anything, his master is really cute.
Back in the carriage, Darien closed his eyes and cursed Seren's fanatical pursuer in his heart. He swore that if he caught him, he would give him a whole bottle of nightmare potion and make the damn guy have horrible nightmares for a month.
Sevier returned to the carriage shortly afterwards, carrying his picnic basket in a state of disarray.
Darien didn't want to talk to him, so he continued to close his eyes and even leaned his face against the car window, not even showing him his full face.
The carriage wheels rolled forward, and the bumps brought their bodies closer together. Darien silently moved himself back.
The coachman Martin worked harder than ever. He had heard about the strange behavior of his two masters yesterday. He also heard that the two masters, who had always been in love with each other, actually slept in separate rooms. He thought they must have had a quarrel.
In the past, the two masters would hold hands when they got into the carriage, but today Mr. Darien actually left Mr. Sewell behind, and he could not hear their laughter in the carriage.
There must be a huge crisis in their relationship. He'd better work hard and not let his masters notice him, so as not to be accidentally affected by the war.
But the more you worry about something, the more likely it is to happen. A black and white dog suddenly jumped out from the street next to you, chasing a cat holding a sausage in its mouth.
Martin quickly pulled the reins and the carriage was forced to stop.
The horses' pace was not very consistent, and the carriage inevitably shook, shaking the two people in the carriage.
Perhaps a heavier person is more stable. Sewell not only stabilized himself, but was also able to reach out and help Darien, preventing him from hitting his forehead on the wall of the carriage.
"Thank you." Darien finally spoke.
He felt a pain in his butt.
Although Seville had just rescued him, he still got hit on the butt by the edge of the seat.
"Do you want me to rub it for you?" Sewell asked with great concern.
"No, I can do it myself." Darien smiled and squeezed out the words from behind his teeth.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Gentlemen, are you okay?" the coachman Martin shouted outside.
"We're fine, let's keep going," said Sewell.
The carriage continued to move forward, and after about half an hour, they finally arrived at the Berlan Restaurant. They had asked the servant to reserve a table overnight, and they would sit by the window and enjoy the beautiful scenery while having lunch.
According to the diary, they ate steak, shrimp salad, baked snails and apple pie at the Berlen restaurant.
"Would I really eat something so weird? Snails are something you like, right?" Darien said, looking at the menu.
"Why do you think so?" Sewell asked.
"Because you're a crow. Didn't I tell you that?" Darien said.
"No, so I'm not a human. Then am I your pet?" Seville asked.
"No." Darien shook his head, "You won't even let me touch your butt."
"Are we really not in that kind of relationship?" Sewell couldn't help but ask.
"Shut up. You'd better not think too much, otherwise you will be miserable when your memory recovers." Darien's eyes drifted over.
Sewell immediately shut up.
The dishes they ordered were served quickly, and Sewell dutifully cut the steak for him himself before cutting his own portion.
Darien continued to read the lines written in his diary helplessly: "Why did you help me cut the steak? I want to hear a satisfactory answer."
Sewell smiled and replied, "Because I am happy to be of service to you."
Darien continued with a blank expression, "That's not enough. You know what I want to hear. I'm not satisfied with that."
Sewell leaned over and said, "Because I love you, I want to do anything for you, and I am willing to do everything for you."
Darien stuffed the largest piece of steak into his mouth and finally smiled the first smile at the table: "I love you too, so I'm willing to do it for you too."
Although his smile was a little grim and his action of stuffing the steak seemed more like he wanted to choke Sewell to death, in the eyes of the waiter who was watching his back, they were truly a very loving couple.
"They are here again. They are so loving. Mr. Darien still loves Mr. Seville so much. Mr. Seville is so happy." The waiter said to his colleague.
"Really?" My colleague looked unconvinced.
After stuffing his steak, Darien turned his gaze back to his plate and began to enjoy his lunch quietly.
Seville seemed to have lost his brain in this false world. He didn't cut the steak very well. He just cut the whole piece of meat into slightly smaller pieces, which he had to process again before eating.
Fortunately, the sequel written in the diary will only happen when they are eating apple pie. As long as they don’t eat apple pie, they can do their own things.
"Can you tell me about our previous life?" Seville took the initiative to start the topic.
"In your previous life...you were a very dedicated butler and did your job very well. Although you sometimes made some small moves, it was still within my tolerance range. Is there anything else you want to ask?" Darian said while cutting steak.
"What was our life like before?" This time Sewell emphasized the word "we".
"You will wake me up at eight o'clock every morning, and then we will have breakfast together and take care of the garden. Usually you will be in charge and I will supervise. Then the morning time will sometimes be spent in the store and sometimes in the alchemy room." Darien glanced at him and answered anyway.
"And then?" Sewell pressed.
"Then you'll receive guests. We don't have many guests, so you'll help Mrs. Fitch prepare snacks or lunch. The afternoon is housework time, cleaning the attic and washing clothes. In the evening, you'll prepare bath water and tell bedtime stories. I'm done." Darien put the steak in his mouth and ended the conversation unilaterally.
"It sounds like I'm a very good housekeeper and I can help a lot, right?" said Sewell.
"Yeah," Darien said casually.
"Anything else?" Sewell asked a little more demandingly.
"No more. If you don't want to eat it, you can give me your steak." Darien didn't want to continue to pay attention to him.
Sewell actually brought over his steak.
"Forget it, I can't eat so much, take it back." Darien shook his head.
Sewell took the steak back.
The waiter brought the baked snails, covered with a thick layer of green sauce. Darian leaned in and smelled it, and could smell the scent of fresh basil leaves.
"Do you want to try it?" Sewell asked for the sake of conversation.
"I haven't eaten snails yet, and I rarely see them. There are no insects in the garden outside the tower. What do they taste like? Are they soft, squishy slime?" said Darien.
"My current memory tells me that it tastes a bit crispy, similar to conch meat," Sewell replied.
"You can try it." Darien nodded.
Sewell gave him a fork.
The snail meat has a slight aroma of butter and the vanilla fragrance of crushed basil leaves. Just as Sewell said, the texture of the meat is very crisp and it can give the back teeth a little experience when biting it.
The apple pie hadn't arrived yet, and the atmosphere was still normal. They finished the steak and baked snails together, split the shrimp salad in half, and all the food was swept away, leaving only the remaining sauce on the plate and the lemon peel and some lettuce leaves in the salad bowl.
The steaming apple pie arrived, and the waiter added a little more white wine to their glasses.
Darien picked up the wine glass, took a sip slowly, then raised his calf and stepped onto Sewell's leather shoes.
His ankle rubbed upwards slowly, rising little by little, from his calf to his knee, slowly rubbing upwards.
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