一次感恩节前夕的深夜，我睡在年轻时的卧室里，一只熟悉的手有些犹豫地、悄悄地略过我的脸，从我额头上拨开头发，然后一个吻，轻轻地印在我的眉毛上。
So it was that late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I drifted into sleep in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantly stole across my face to brush the hair from my forehead.
我抱住她然后给了她一个吻。
然后他说不几天他也要庆祝自己的生日，并要求她还他一个吻。
He then announced that he, too, would be celebrating a birthday in few days and asked for a kiss in return.
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