呼口气,调整呼吸，练习好表情,这才才转过头,牵强的笑笑：“这么巧。”                                                                                傅明琰没说话,背靠在另一根栏杆上,盯着她的脸庞看了几秒,他喉间轻滚，最终什么都没说，从兜里摸出烟，自己点上一支，又伸手把烟盒递到她跟前。                                                                                苏韵诧异的看着他，有点不明所以，后来她又都明白了。她手指轻颤，抽出一支烟，他又将打火机递给她。                                                                                她想到自己第一次抽烟是在服务区，当时呛的她差点流眼泪。                                                                                抽烟跟手术果然不同，她没有这方面天赋，做不到无师自通。即便这是第二次抽烟，她还是被呛到。                                                                                所以流眼泪变的这么理所当然。                                                                                之后的时间里，只有两股烟雾随风依袅上升，在空中纠缠，又随即消失在夜色里。                                                                                苏韵面对着湖面，傅明琰背对着湖面。                                                                                谁也没再看谁。