Then, as the seconds passed, they dimmed. 然后，随着时间一分一秒地过去，它们黯淡下来。

His expression slowly folded into a mask of ancient sadness. 他的表情慢慢地变成了一个写满了古老的悲伤的面具。

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his velvet voice unintentionally seductive. “别害怕。”他喃喃低语道，他天鹅绒般的声音充满了无心的诱惑。

"I promise..." He hesitated. “我保证……”他犹豫了一下。

"I swear not to hurt you." He seemed more concerned with convincing himself than me. “我发誓我不会伤害你的。”他不止是在说服我，他似乎更想让他自己坚信这一点。

"Don't be afraid," he whispered again as he stepped closer, with exaggerated slowness. “别害怕。”他又一次低声耳语道，走得更近些，步子缓慢得夸张。

He sat sinuously, with deliberately unhurried movements, till our faces were on the same level, just a foot apart. 他弯曲着身子坐下来，故意让动作显得从容不迫，直到我们脸在同一水平线上，只有一步之遥。

"Please forgive me," he said formally. “请原谅我。”他用正式的语气说道。

"I can control myself. You caught me off guard. But I'm on my best behavior now." “我能控制住自己了。你碰巧赶上了我失去警戒。但现在我非常规矩。”

He waited, but I still couldn't speak. 他等待着，但我还是没法说话。

"I'm not thirsty today, honestly." He winked. “不瞒你说，我今天不渴。”他眨了眨眼。

At that I had to laugh, though the sound was shaky and breathless. 对此我不得不大笑起来，但我的声音很虚弱，几乎透不过气来。

"Are you all right?" he asked tenderly, reaching out slowly, carefully, to place his marble hand back in mine. “你还好吗？”他体贴地问道，慢慢地伸出手，小心地，把他宛如大理石般的手放到我手中。

I looked at his smooth, cold hand, and then at his eyes. They were soft, repentant. 我看着他光洁冰冷的手，然后看向他的眼睛。它们是那么的温和，充满了悔意。

I looked back at his hand, and then deliberately returned to tracing the lines in his hand with my fingertip. 我看回他的手，然后不慌不忙地让我的指尖回到他手上，轻描着他掌心的线条。

I looked up and smiled timidly. 我抬起头，羞怯地笑了。