Save Yourself, Beauty - стр. 2
– Cant. How exquisite. And what do you think about "things in themselves"?
Leah was fascinated by this low, pleasant voice, which gently enveloped her now languishing thoughts. A few seconds ago she remembered the taste of university latte, felt bitterly sweet and painfully familiar taste, and now lost everything as if she had untied the necklace, allowing the beads to burst.
The girl carefully turned her face to the owner of such an exciting voice. The first thing she saw was piercing grey-blue eyes. It was a strange association, but she remembered hematite for some reason. There was another memory in her head: at the age of twelve, Leah was leafing a book about precious stones and came across a very entertaining one who could paint the water red. For this reason he is still called a bloodthirsty. She shook her head trying to come to her senses, because she was asked a question.
Leah could not explain why this man caused her a paralyzing body. She felt caught by a stupid beast, but could not justify the sensations in any wise. Usually the mind guided her, not the feelings. It is absurd to experience such a thing next to a stranger. Leah did not know him at all.
Especially since his voice seemed capable of driving her crazy. The fact that she was so glum about the sound of a man's voice made her first impression at the university when she met a not-too-pretty teacher, who, however, had a velvet timbre, forcing Laya to dive into the subject with her head.
There was a little different story with the stranger: he looked pretty, and what was there was beautiful in a man's way. She wanted to remember the ancient gods and compare them and then shook her head again. The man smiled tenderly at her as if he understood what her brain was going through.
– The thing in itself? – She asked the embarrassed girl again, trying to adjust herself to philosophy. – I agree with Kant that experience cannot give us knowledge of what things are in themselves.
– It's amazing. – The man's lips stretched in a light half-smile. – Young, beautiful and smart. Rare combination today.
And Leah was filled with paint, and frowned.
– Did you think I was just holding the book?!
– Everything happens. He once saw her reading an erotic story wrapped in Spengler's cover of "The Rock of Europe". People are such funny creatures. As a result, I couldn't connect two words. And the "Rock of Europe" is more relevant than ever. Can you say something?
– About the cycle of flowering and fading of cultures? – Leah tried to remember the content. – Unfortunately, I no longer remember so well, I read a couple of years ago.
– Do you remember Spengler's suggestion to take history nonlinearly? Do you remember Faustian culture?
– This is Spengler's term," Leah thought deeply, trying hard to extract the necessary information from her memory. – I remember, but superficial.
The man did not look away from the girl's face, slowly sliding and sometimes clinging to the soft features.
– You'd look good in the portrait. I see you as Donna Velata. I wish you hadn't lived in Raphael's time. However… I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. – He blinked his eyes. Leah's heart contracted so much that she felt for a moment that she no longer lived in that reality. She was breathtaking, oxygen was scarce in her chest, and her lips became too dry. Leah touched them with the tip of her tongue, trying to cope with the nervousness, but the stranger's sharp look forced her to shake and feel the knot beneath her stomach. Leah held her breath watching her hematite eyes.