Chapter 573

Henry sat at the back of his desk, looking down at the students' homework, with his left hand supporting his head. His open palm covered most of his face. If his fingertips seemed to be swimming in the temple and eyebrow fingertips, he could see that his tight fingertips were gently rubbing the temple. The fatigue and helplessness between his eyebrows were like the thick ink dripping into the clear water, and he fainted slowly.

Reading the homework, his right hand stopped abruptly and turned back to the page in front of him. In a moment, his out of focus eyes returned to focus on the homework again. Then there was a trivial sound of opening the door at the door, which made Henry raise his head and slide his left hand to the position of his lower jaw. He looked at the door without covering his eyes.

It's Meredith.

"Hi, Mr. Bart."

"Hi, Meredith." Henry pulled the corners of his mouth and welcomed Meredith's visit with a smile. "Are you ok?"

Meredith, with a large ginger envelope in her hand, gently closed the door of the classroom and met Henry. She looked at her eyes. She couldn't help but droop her head and avoid them. She raised her hand and tilted her head, trying to cover up her nervousness. But she didn't find her hands and feet. "Good, I'm good." She stood at the door of the classroom deftly and rigidly, afraid to approach. She raised the envelope in her hand and said timidly, "I made a picture for you."

Henry, noticing Meredith's estrangement, beckoned and said kindly, "come here." Glancing at the homework in front of him, he quickly stroke two lines. Then he put down his pen and looked up at Meredith, who was slowly approaching. "Did you really make it?"

"Yes." Meredith caught the faint smile on the corner of Henry's mouth, but the shallow radian was warm. Shy and nervous, he lowered his head to smile and almost answered Henry's question in an angry voice.

Looking at Henry taking the envelope, Meredith walked forward and back, but at last he took two small steps forward. Standing on Henry's side, he watched Henry pull out his work from the envelope, fiddling with the ring on his finger anxiously and uneasily, his mouth became dry because of tension, and he kept sipping his lip.

Henry holds the whole work of Meredith in both hands and stares at it deeply and intently. This is a photograph. On the left is an empty classroom, and on the right is a bust of him, but he has no face. He just stares at the empty classroom. The color of black and white is cold and heavy, which makes us feel sad and lonely.

Henry's eyes were slightly deeper, and the sadness between his eyebrows was scattered in his eyes, "wow." He sighed in a low voice, but his eyes never moved, just quietly looking at the photography in his hand. The reason why art is so important is that it reflects everyone's heart to a certain extent. Painting, photography, film and music are all like this. So are creators and appreciators. Different hearts, in the same work of art, reflect different depths and contents.

"... it's really beautiful." Henry sighed in a low voice, his husky voice echoing deep in his throat, "really talented." As if he was talking to himself, he expressed his appreciation from the bottom of his heart. Meredith's shy but joyful voice "thank you" came to his ear, which interrupted Henry's thoughts. He raised his head, frowned slightly, and his eyes showed doubts, "have you been writing for a long time?"

Meredith was too shy to know what to do. She scratched her head. Even though she was depressed all the time, the corners of her mouth rose uncontrollably, and her smile fell into her eyes. "She started from childhood." Meredith lowered her head, chin almost close to the chest, even if she bit the lower lip, she still could not restrain the outline of the mouth.

Henry looked at Meredith with a smile on his face, but added a touch of loneliness. He looked down at his work with sadness. "A blank face, standing in an open classroom." His eyes gradually deepened and he fell into his own thoughts. He asked softly, "is this me in your eyes? Meredith

That pair of deep pupil is dissipating bit by bit, just like the photo in hand, the face is disappearing.

When Meredith heard these words, she shyly and flurried away from her eyes. As if she had seen the girl's thoughts in her heart, she quickly stepped back two steps, grabbed the hem of her waistcoat with cramped and restrained hands, and gently shook her body like a girl. But then, she gradually froze. Henry's side face fell into her eyes. The loneliness and sadness of no country for old people were flowing quietly. Her mood was also precipitated. Her eyes were watching Henry and watching him quietly.

"I don't know what you look like in my eyes..." Meredith pauses for a moment and seems to fall into her own thoughts. Involuntarily, her eyes follow Henry and fall on her own works. "This is just my opinion of your current situation." Meredith recalled the process of her creation. "Have you ever thought about what kind of people teachers are outside the campus? In real life. "

Henry put down his work, slowly leaned back to the chair, raised his hand and rubbed his temple, intentionally or unintentionally widening the distance between him and Meredith, "I guess so. Is this classroom real in your eyes? "

Meredith didn't know how to answer. She hesitated. Then she saw Henry raise his eyes and they met. This aroused Meredith's memory and explained flurriedly, "I'm observing you near the school..." her words hesitated a little, but she went on, "you always look so sad."

Henry's mouth gently raised, showing a smile, but the extended eyebrows and deep eyes, but floating a layer of cold mist, the lonely sadness in the smile more and more heartbreaking.

Meredith tried to open her mouth, only to find that she choked inexplicably and her eyes were slightly red. She awkwardly avoided Henry's eyes, shrugged her shoulders and didn't put them down. It seemed that Meredith was expressing her helplessness and establishing her own defense mechanism. "Maybe..." Meredith couldn't speak any more, and her voice became smaller, Just saying to yourself, "maybe your life is not going well."

The pain of empathy made her words fragmented and almost whispered. She quietly looked at Henry with the rest of her eyes. Her lower lip began to whiten because her teeth were too hard. She was cautious, nervous, hesitant, uneasy, hesitant, nervous, but with a desire. The strong emotion made her voice hoarse, "if you want to talk to someone..."

In this way, the following words disappeared in the throat, and you can even hear the cry caused by fear of losing and fear of exposure.

Henry raised his eyes and looked at Meredith carefully. The bitter and sad smile in the corner of his mouth rose again, but it soon calmed down. A kind smile flashed in his eyes. Then he stood up and maintained the equal status between him and Meredith, even though he was far taller than Meredith, But his eyes were on the same height as Meredith.

Henry tried to get close to Meredith, but his pace faltered and he stepped back a little to keep the distance between them. He lowered his head, pondered and chewed carefully. Then he covered all the mixed emotions in his eyes and restored his usual alienation and indifference. Then he raised his head again, "Meredith?"

"Yes, sir." Meredith raised her head, looked at the teacher with admiration and closeness, and searched for the look between her eyebrows.

Henry raised his hand and tried to rub his temple, but it stopped in mid air, because he realized the vulnerability and heaviness of the action. He took a breath and said seriously, "do you need someone to talk to?"

Meredith's nose was sour, her eyes began to turn red, her voice trembled slightly, and she nodded, "yes..." but her voice became fragmented and said earnestly and hopelessly, "can you talk to me?"

Henry closed his eyes gently, covered up the flash of sadness and pain under his eyes, and then nodded in affirmation.

Meredith took a small step forward, but he saw that Henry's upper body was stiff. He did not dodge, but his back muscles were frozen and stiff. The narrowing of physical space brought about the expansion of spiritual space. The insurmountable alienation was like an invisible wall, which activated the defense mechanism.

He is not cold-blooded, not cold-blooded, but fear, fear, retreat, worry and despair. He is just like an abyss of despair, anyone close to him will fall to pieces, he tried to help others, but always destroyed. He didn't want to destroy Meredith.

Meredith, immersed in her own thoughts, didn't find that "when I talk to you, I feel like you see through everything." Meredith's eyes were red, with tears in them, and a thick nasal voice. The sadness and despair reflected Henry's soul.

Henry dropped his eyes quickly. The flash of light swallowed up all his emotions. He nodded and whispered, "I do see you. Meredith. " It was because he saw Meredith, the scarred soul, that he had to keep his distance. "Do you want to talk to Dr. Parker?"

"Oh, please." Meredith was disappointed. This was not the answer she wanted. Because she was angry and worried, she stamped her feet. Then she took a small step forward to vent her emotions. The negative emotions inadvertently leaked out were burning, "don't talk to me about the counselor!"

Henry quickly raised his hands to show his surrender and appease Meredith. "No, that's not what I mean." He tried to avoid opening his eyes, but knew it was not a wise choice. Between hesitation and hesitation, he still looked at Meredith, but his body began to lean back against the blackboard, sat on the back of the chair, and opened the distance between them again.

"What can I do?"