Sirius sat on the window ledge, knees drawn to her chest, watching the moon. She didn't turn when Verna came in. 瑟瑞丝坐在窗台上，膝盖抵着胸口，看着月亮。薇尔娜推门进来时，她没有回头。 "No nightmares tonight?" “今晚没做噩梦？” Verna set a warmed cup of milk on the table. 薇尔娜把一杯温好的牛奶放在桌上。 No answer. 没有回答。 Verna settled by the table and turned the pages of that star atlas she never seemed to finish. The room held nothing but the rustle of paper. A long while passed. Sirius climbed down and stood on the far side of the table. 薇尔娜在桌边坐下，翻着那本永远也翻不完的星图。屋子里只剩下纸页翻动的声音。过了很久，瑟瑞丝从窗台上跳下来，站在桌子的另一边。 "Why?" “为什么？” she asked, her voice low and rough as stone on stone. 她开口问道，声音低沉而粗粝，像石头磨着石头。 Verna looked up. "Why what?" 薇尔娜抬起头。“什么为什么？” "Why are you always so good to me." Sirius pressed her hand flat on the table, fingers spreading, then curling back in. "Why do you come looking for me when I have nightmares? Why do you coax me when I'm upset?" “为什么你一直对我这样好。”瑟瑞丝把手按在桌面上，五指张开，又缓缓收拢。“你为什么在我做噩梦了就跑来找我？不开心了就来哄我？” Verna set the book down. 薇尔娜放下了书。 "Are you a robot?" Sirius's voice spiked suddenly, carrying something long buried. "Don't you have feelings of your own? Every day you just sit here—reading, watching the moon, watching me. You never get angry. Never get restless. You never once say, 'I'm not in the mood to coax you today.' You—" “你是机器人吗？”瑟瑞丝的声音陡然拔高，带着某种被压了许久的东西。“你没有自己的情感吗？你每天就坐在这里——看书，看月亮，看我。你从来不生气。从来不烦躁。你从来不说一句‘我今天没心情哄你’。你——” Her fingers clenched the table's edge. 她的手指攥紧了桌沿。 "Why do you have to make yourself the one who saves me?" “你为什么非要让自己成为那个拯救我的人？” The last word fell, and the room went still but for the sound of breathing. Sirius's shoulders shook—like a cornered cub baring its teeth at last, not to strike, but because it was terrified. 最后一个字落地，屋子里只剩呼吸声。瑟瑞丝的肩膀在发抖——像一只被逼到角落的幼兽，终于龇出牙来，不是为了攻击，而是出于恐惧。 Verna said nothing. 薇尔娜什么都没说。 She watched Sirius in the quiet. Moonlight spilled through the window, silvering her scales, lighting the rims of her eyes—though no tears fell. She was gritting her teeth, waiting. 她只是安静地看着瑟瑞丝。月光从窗外倾泻而入，将她的鳞片染成银灰，映亮她的眼眶——但并没有眼泪落下。她咬着牙，等待着。 Verna rose, walked around the table, and stopped before her. 薇尔娜站起来，绕过桌子，停在她面前。 "I didn't come to save you," “我不是来拯救你的。” she said, very softly. 她轻声说道。 "Then what did you come for?" “那你是来干什么的？” "I came…" “我来……” Verna hesitated. Her hand lifted, then dropped. Finally, she just reached out—gently, slowly—and took hold of Sirius's fingers where they gripped the wood. One by one, she loosened them and drew them into her own palm. 薇尔娜顿了一下。她抬起手，又放下。最后，她只是伸出手去——轻轻地，慢慢地——握住瑟瑞丝攥紧桌沿的手指。一根一根，掰开，然后拢入自己的掌心。 Sirius didn't pull away. 瑟瑞丝没有躲开。 "I came because I wanted to," Verna said. "When you have nightmares, I come looking for you because I can't sleep, either. When you're unhappy, I coax you because if I don't, something twists inside me, too." “我来，是因为我想来。”薇尔娜说。“你做噩梦时我去找你，是因为我也睡不着。你不开心时我来哄你，是因为我不哄你，我心里也一样难受。” She looked down at their hands. 她低头看着她们握在一起的手。 "I have feelings of my own. And this is my feeling: I want to be beside you. Not because you need me. Because I need to be beside you." “我有自己的情感。我的情感就是——我想待在你旁边。不是你需要我，是我需要待在你旁边。” Sirius went still. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She stared at Verna's profile, at those dark and quiet eyes. There was no savior's glow in them, no machine's indifference—just something clumsy, unnameable, but entirely present. 瑟瑞丝愣住了。她嘴唇翕动，却发不出声音。她望着薇尔娜的侧脸，望着那双暗沉而安静的眼睛。那里面没有拯救者的光辉，也没有机器的冷漠——只有某种笨拙的、难以名状的、却真切存在的东西。 "…Then why didn't you just say so?" Her voice had gone hoarse. “……那你为什么不早说？”她的声音已经哑了。 "You never asked." “你没问。” Sirius tightened her grip. "I'm asking now." 瑟瑞丝攥紧了她的手。“我现在问了。” "Mm." “嗯。” "From now on, whatever I ask, you answer." “从今以后，我问什么，你都要答。” "Alright." “好。” Silence drifted between them. Moonlight rested on their clasped hands. 沉默在她们之间流淌。月光栖在她们交握的手上。 After a long moment, Sirius lowered her head, her voice thick. 过了很久，瑟瑞丝低下头，声音闷闷的。 "…Come here." “……过来。” "What?" “什么？” "Hold me." “抱我。” Verna stepped in and wrapped her arms around her, gentle and sure. Sirius buried her face in the curve of Verna's neck and went perfectly still. 薇尔娜上前一步，轻轻抱住她，动作温柔而确定。瑟瑞丝把脸埋进她的肩窝，一动不动。 A while later, she mumbled: 过了一会儿，她闷声嘟囔道： "Left side. Your heart is on the left." “左边。你的心脏在左边。” "Mm." “嗯。” "So is mine." “我的也在左边。” "Mm." “嗯。” "When we hold each other, they don't meet." “抱在一起的时候，它们贴不到。” Verna didn't answer. She only held her tighter, one hand stroking slowly down her back. 薇尔娜没有回答。她只是把她抱得更紧了些，一只手缓缓抚过她的脊背。 "Then what?" Sirius's voice had a faint catch in it. “那怎么办？”瑟瑞丝的声音带着一丝鼻音。 Verna thought for a moment. 薇尔娜想了想。 "Then left against left." “那就左边贴着左边。” "But—" “可是——” "Turn around." “你转过来。” Sirius lifted her head and looked at her. Moonlight fell across her stubborn face, across the faint gleam of her scales. Slowly, she turned, her back to Verna—then stopped. And turned back. 瑟瑞丝抬起头看着她。月光落在她倔强的脸上，落在她微微发亮的鳞片上。她慢慢地转过身去，背对着薇尔娜——然后停住了。又转了回来。 Face to face. 面对着面。 Verna reached out again, arms circling her waist. This time, their left chests pressed together. Through cloth, through scales, through the cage of bone—but they touched. 薇尔娜再次伸出手，环住她的腰。这一次，两人的左胸贴在了一起。隔着衣料，隔着鳞片，隔着骨头的囚笼——但贴着了。 Sirius laid her hand between them. No space left. 瑟瑞丝把手按在两人胸口之间。没有缝隙了。 "…They're touching," she said, very softly, as if testing something fragile. “……贴到了。”她轻声说，仿佛在确认某样易碎的东西。 "Mm." “嗯。” "What you said before. Was it true?" “你刚才说的那些，是真的吗？” "Which part?" “哪一句？” "That you need to be beside me." “你需要待在我旁边。” Verna looked at her. 薇尔娜看着她。 "Every word," she said. “每一句都是。” Sirius said nothing. She slid her hand from between them, looped her arms around Verna's neck, and buried her face back into her shoulder. 瑟瑞丝没有再说话。她把手从两人中间抽出来，圈住薇尔娜的脖子，重新把脸埋进她的肩窝。 Beyond the window, the river of stars turned, slow and soundless. 窗外，星河无声地缓慢流转。 A long while later, a muffled voice rose from the hollow of her shoulder: 很久之后，闷闷的声音从肩窝里传出来： "…You're not a robot." “……你不是机器人。” "Mm." “嗯。” "And you're not allowed to be my savior." “你也不许当我的拯救者。” "Alright." “好。” "You just stay beside me." “你就在旁边就好。” Verna smiled, faint and soft. 薇尔娜轻轻笑了。 "Alright." “好。” The moonlight lay over their pressed-together chests. One heartbeat, then another—two rhythms, out of step, yet beating through the same thin cloth. 月光照着两人贴在一起的胸口。一下心跳，又一下心跳——两种节奏，并不合拍，却隔着同一层薄薄的衣料跳动着。 —Like those nights when you finally stop asking why someone is good to you, and just let yourself be held. ——就像那些终于不再追问“你为何对我好”的夜晚，只是允许自己被接住。

幸福的局限性