I go crimson. I was just thinking a

I go crimson. I was just thinking about running my fingers through your hair and wondering if it would feel soft to touch. I shake my head. He’s carrying a tray, which he sets down on the small, round, birch-veneer table. He hands me a cup and saucer, a small teapot, and a side plate bearing a lone teabag labeled ‘Twinings English Breakfast’ – my favorite. He has a coffee which bears a wonderful leaf-pattern imprinted in the milk. How do they do that? I wonder idly. He’s also bought himself a blueberry muffin. Putting the tray aside, he sits opposite me and crosses his long legs. He looks so comfortable, so at ease with his body, I envy him. Here’s me, all gawky and uncoordinated, barely able to get from A to B without falling flat on my face.
“Your thoughts?” he prompts me.
“This is my favorite tea.” My voice is quiet, breathy. I simply can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Christian Grey in a coffee shop in Portland. He frowns. He knows I’m hiding something. I pop the teabag into the teapot and almost immediately fish it out again with my teaspoon. As I place the used teabag back on the side plate, he cocks his head gazing quizzically at me.
“I like my tea black and weak,” I mutter as an explanation.
“I see. Is he your boyfriend?”
Whoa… What?
“Who?”
“The photographer. José Rodriguez.”
I laugh, nervous but curious. What gave him that impression?
“No. José’s a good friend of mine, that’s all. Why did you think he was my boyfriend?”
“The way you smiled at him, and he at you.” His gray gaze holds mine. He’s so unnerving. I want to look away but I’m caught – spellbound.
“He’s more like family,” I whisper.
Grey nods slightly, seemingly satisfied with my response, and glances down at his blueberry muffin. His long fingers deftly peel back the paper, and I watch, fascinated.
“Do you want some?” he asks, and that amused, secret smile is back.
“No thanks.” I frown and stare down at my hands again.
“And the boy I met yesterday, at the store. He’s not your boyfriend?”
“No. Paul’s just a friend. I told you yesterday.” Oh, this is getting silly. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem nervous around men.”
Holy crap, that’s personal. I’m just nervous around you, Grey.
“I find you intimidating.” I flush scarlet, but mentally pat myself on the back for my candor, and gaze at my hands again. I hear his sharp intake of breath.
“You should find me intimidating,” he nods. “You’re very honest. Please don’t look down. I like to see your face.”
Oh. I glance at him, and he gives me an encouraging but wry smile.
“It gives me some sort of clue what you might be thinking,” he breathes. “You’re a mystery, Miss Steele.
Mysterious? Me?
“There’s nothing mysterious about me.”
“I think you’re very self-contained,” he murmurs.

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 2:

I go crimson. I was just thinking about running my fingers through your hair and wondering if it would feel soft to touch. I shake my head. He's carrying a tray, which he sets down on the small, round, birch-veneer table. He hands me a cup and saucer, a small teapot, and a side plate bearing a lone teabag labeled 'Twinings English Breakfast' - my favorite. He has a coffee which bears a wonderful leaf-pattern imprinted in the milk. How do they do that? I wonder idly. He's also bought himself a blueberry muffin. Putting the tray aside, he sits opposite me and crosses his long legs. He looks so comfortable, so at ease with his body, I envy him. Here's ME, all Gawky and Uncoordinated, barely Able to Get from A to B Without Falling Flat on My Face.
"Your Thoughts?" He prompts ME.
"This is My favorite Tea." My Voice is QUIET, breathy. I simply can not believe I'm sitting opposite Christian Grey in a coffee shop in Portland. He frowns. He knows I'm hiding something. I pop the teabag into the teapot and almost immediately fish it out again with my teaspoon. As The Place I Used teabag back on The Side Plate, He cocks His Head quizzical gazing at ME.
"I like My Black Tea and weak," I Mutter As an explanation.
"I See. He is your Boyfriend? "
Whoa ... What?
"Who?"
"The photographer. José Rodriguez. "
I Laugh, Nervous but Curious. What Gave Him Impression that?
"No. José's a good friend of mine, that's all. Why did You Think My Boyfriend He was? "
"The Way You smiled at Him, and He at You." His gaze HOLDS Gray Mine. He's so unnerving. I Want to Look Away but I'm caught - Spellbound.
"He's more like Family," I Whisper.
Grey Nods slightly, seemingly Satisfied with My Response, and glances down at His Blueberry Muffin. His long Fingers deftly Peel back The Paper, and I Watch, fascinated.
"Do You Want some?" He asks, and that amused, Secret Smile is back.
"No Thanks." I frown and stare down at My Hands Again.
". And the boy I met yesterday, at the store. He's Not your Boyfriend? "
"No. Paul's just a friend. I told you yesterday. "Oh, this is getting silly. "Why do You ask?"
"You SEEM Nervous Around Men."
Holy Crap, that's Personal. I'm Just Nervous Around You, Grey.
"I Find You intimidating." I Flush Scarlet, but mentally back for The Pat Myself on My Candor, and gaze at My Hands Again. I Hear His sharp Intake of Breath.
"You should Find ME intimidating," He Nods. "You're very honest. Please do not look down. I like to See your Face. "
Oh. I Glance at Him, and He gives an encouraging but WRY ME Smile.
"It gives ME Clue What You Might be some sort of thinking," He breathes. "You're a Mystery, Miss Steele.
Mysterious? ME?
"There's Nothing Mysterious About ME."
"I Think You're very Self-Contained," He murmurs.

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 3:

I go crimson. I was just thinking about running my fingers through your hair and wondering if it would feel soft to, touch. I shake my head. He 's carrying, a tray which he sets down on, the small round birch-veneer table. He, hands me a cup and. Saucer a teapot and, small, a side plate bearing a lone teabag labeled 'Twinings English Breakfast' - my favorite.He has a coffee which bears a wonderful leaf-pattern imprinted in the milk. How do they do that? I wonder idly. He s also. ' Bought himself a blueberry muffin. Putting the, tray aside he sits opposite me and crosses his long legs. He looks, so comfortable. So at ease with, his body I envy him. Here ', s me all gawky, and uncoordinated barely able to get from A to B without falling. Flat on my face.
."Your thoughts?" he prompts me.
"This is my favorite tea." My voice, is quiet breathy. I simply can 't believe I m sitting.' Opposite Christian Grey in a coffee shop in Portland. He frowns. He knows I 'm hiding something. I pop the teabag into the. Teapot and almost immediately fish it out again with my teaspoon. As I place the used teabag back on the, side plateHe cocks his head gazing quizzically at me.
"I like my tea black and weak," I mutter as an explanation.
"I see. Is he your. Boyfriend? "
Whoa..." Who What?

? "" The photographer. Jos é Rodriguez. "
I laugh nervous but, curious. What gave him that impression?
No."). Jos. 's a good friend of mine that', s all. Why did you think he was my boyfriend? "
" The way you smiled, at him and he at. You."His gray gaze holds mine. He 's so unnerving. I want to look away but I' m caught - spellbound.
" He 's more like family, " I whisper.
Grey, nods slightly seemingly satisfied with my response and glances, down at his blueberry muffin. His long. Fingers deftly peel back the paper and, I, watch fascinated.
"Do you want some?" he asks and that amused secret smile,,, Is back.
"No thanks."I frown and stare down at my hands again.
" And the boy I met yesterday at the, store. He 's not your boyfriend? "
", No. Paul 's just a friend. I told you yesterday. "Oh this is, getting silly." Why do you ask? "
" You seem nervous around men. "Holy
. Crap that ', s personal. I' m just nervous, around you Grey.
"I find you intimidating." I, flush scarletBut mentally pat myself on the back for, my candor and gaze at my hands again. I hear his sharp intake of breath.
You. " Should find me intimidating, "he nods." You 're very honest. Please don' t look down. I like to see your face. "
Oh. I glance. At him and he, gives me an encouraging but wry smile.
"It gives me some sort of clue what you might be thinking," he, breathes. "You ', re a mysteryMiss Steele.

Mysterious? Me? "There 's nothing mysterious about me."
"I think you' re very self-contained," he murmurs.