Pulan looked at Gawain quietly. The Milky Way was twinkling in the depths of his clear eyes, and his frank and straightforward eyes seemed to be able to see the truth.
"Honestly, how much time did you spend on these excuses? Or is this not the first time you have used this trick? Are you familiar with it?"
"Ah, no, the mask was revealed." Gawain didn't panic, and said with a smile, "So, you regret it now? Forget it the third time?"
Pu Lan tilted his head slightly, paused for a moment, and seemed to be thinking. This time he seemed to find the answer quickly, "Let us wait and see."
Then, Pu Lan moved back in small steps, gradually widening the distance, "Whether there will be a third time, we will wait for time and fate to give the answer. Since the movie has begun, we must follow the story."
"By the way, please don't try to contact me, or I will call the police and report a stalker."
After saying that, Pulan blinked at Gawain, stepped forward from the passage on the other side of the tavern, and walked straight forward. His light and cheerful steps were like a little fox jumping and dancing on the snow-capped ice field, with his flowing hair. You can feel the dancing of the breeze, as if you can capture the rhythm in your body.
When passing Dimitrov, Pullan was not shy. He nodded generously, but did not stop and continued to move forward.
Gawain watched Pu Lan enter the tavern, opened his mouth slightly, paused, and then his smile uncontrollably rose.
Turning around, Gawain returned to his seat and sat down opposite Dimitrov again.
The melon-eating crowd seemed to have completely recovered. They could no longer see the sadness and loss of losing the game and being trapped in love. Their brows were full of joy. They put down the melted ice cream in their hands. It was obvious that they had just been too enthusiastic about eating melons. I completely forgot about the ice cream.
Then, the melon-eater made a gesture of zipping up his mouth towards Gawain and lowered his voice, "I won't leak any information."
That mysterious expression made Gawain unable to hold back and chuckled, "Gregor, it doesn't matter if the news leaks out, because nothing has happened."
Dimitrov did not deny it, with a "what you say is what you say" expression, he just picked up the red wine glass and made a salute towards Gawain.
it is more than words.
Gawain looked at Dimitrov who was in a happy mood and said nothing more:
Some things get darker and darker as they are described.
What's more, what he said is the truth. I don't know if we can meet for a third time.
Thinking of this, Gawain turned his head and looked behind him.
Pulan had already sat down, took out a tome from his backpack and was reading, seemingly having found his peace.
So Gawain also withdrew his gaze, looked at Dimitrov who was drinking happily, and asked with a very serious expression, "Gregor, how did you and Maria meet?"
puff.
Dimitrov almost choked on the red wine. He quickly put down the red wine glass and waved his hands to beg for mercy. How could he forget that the guy in front of him was a devil?
Considering that Gao Wen had a game tomorrow, they didn't stay too long in the tavern. They waited for Dimitrov to finish a glass of red wine, chatted for a while, and then got up and left.
Dimitrov left the tavern first and waited at the door, while Gawain chatted with the bartender and waiters for a few more words, thanked them again for their hospitality, and then walked out.
Standing at the door, grabbing the door handle, Gawain looked back:
Pulan was still alone. There were plates and wine glasses on the table. Dinner was almost done. At this time, she was holding a thick tome and reading. She was so absorbed in it that she couldn't feel the outside world at all. Interference, naturally there is no way to telepathically detect Gawain's sight.
Gawain's steps only paused for a moment, then he opened the door and left.
"...Gregor..."
"I love you……"
Valley
"……Don't worry."
"have a good rest……"
"The game was exciting..."
The rustling sounds intertwined and collided with each other, mixed with the cold and desolate autumn wind blowing against my face. It was not abrupt, and played one after another with the sound of people talking loudly at the door of the tavern. Instead, I could feel the warmth under the night. Dots of dim yellow lights in the distance also followed.
At this time, Gawain noticed that about four or five people surrounded Dimitrov, and the surrounding crowds also cast their gazes, so that he could only distinguish the boundaries between the crowds, but he felt that the surging crowd was surrounding Dimitrov. Love scattered -
The scene is somewhat spectacular.
Wait, are you meeting fans?
This was the first time Gauvin saw tennis fans outside the training ground.
Generally speaking, compared with football and basketball and other popular sports around the world, the overall popularity and promotion of tennis is still slightly behind. Even if you really like tennis, the men's Big Four, women's Serena Williams and Sharapova , there is a gap between their popularity and other players.
It is precisely because of this that Gawain and Dimitrov can always walk freely outside without the superstar effect of shouting in front of them.
But it wouldn’t be a surprise if it was Dimitrov.
It has been two years since Dimitrov became famous. News on and off the court continues. His recognition around the world is indeed impressive. He has an advantage over other top ten players in the world; not to mention, This is Paris, a city where Dimitrov has lived for many years.
Half a home court.
It seemed that he should have been recognized at the door of the tavern.
So, should I stand aside and wait for a while to give the spotlight to Dimitrov?
At this moment——
"God! Gawain? You are Gawain!"
A fan standing at the door of the tavern noticed the wind behind him and realized that someone should be coming out. He was about to give way. When he turned and looked back, he saw a tall tower.
While saying sorry, he looked up and saw a face that was both strange and familiar——
To say unfamiliar is because Asian faces are indeed not that common in Paris, and the same is true in tennis matches.
When I say familiar, that's because... he knows him.
His brain was spinning, searching his memory, trying to match the face with the name, but the subconscious reaction was already blurted out.
Gawain.
When I said this name, all the memories came rushing back, I was surprised and happy, and my expression completely blossomed.
Then, there was a flurry of French.
Gawain admitted that he didn't understand a word, a crackling mass of words, all composed of syllables and syllables, but it was like an alien language.
So, what should he do?
He showed an awkward yet polite smile to express his friendliness, but one question after another popped up in his mind:
Did he just hear his name? This fan recognized himself, right? Or is it that the fans got the wrong person? And then he himself heard it wrong?
One hundred thousand whys are spinning, can he open the translation application on the spot to help?
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