不列颠的反击

She hugged him for a while and went on, "Liar. I held a concert as a prayer for you, why aren't you better yet? Did you hear me sing? Shall I sing for you?" She began singing quietly and intermittently. It was that mystical tune. Brother told her there was no need for a music score, nor for a rehearsal before singing it. All she needed was the voice that flowed from the bottom of her heart. Her voice was hoarse and she barely had enough energy to carry on. Her singing got softer and it became more effortful to go on. As her whispering voice suspended in the almost silent room, it felt as if that was a final lingering flame waiting to be extinguished. Eventually, she became completely worn out, and the singing stopped. She was still rested against his chest, her lashes quivering as tears rolled silently down her cheeks.