Boyfriend came back from infinite flow

He opened his eyes before I came to the edge of the couch.

I did not stop.

These days among people have taught me a lot.For example: At this time, when he sees a person wearing a black hood, he should be vigilant and ask others to arrest me—or, if he finds me under the hood, this will make him have a greater reaction.

I imagined all that and it started to feel funny.

The darkness on his body began to swim, caressing him soundlessly.

I'm not very happy, but I just thought: As a "priest" who is so popular among the people, if he shows the appearance of being made to cry in front of everyone...

It's a good show.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any special reaction.

This surprised me a little.

I stop beside him.At this time, he finally opened his eyes.

Only then did I know that not only his hair had turned white, but his eyes had also turned white.

He was out of sight.

not only that.He is so weak that he needs other people to support him in everything.There was no magic in him, and he had no idea that it was me standing in front of him.

This made me rather angry and felt like a punch to the cotton.

I rethought my way of humiliating him, of making him sad, but before that, he spoke.The voice is very low and light, as if the wind can blow it away.

He asked me, what time is it?

I don't answer him.

He didn't have the strength to ask a second sentence.

I watched his eyes blink, saw him surprised, saw him close his eyes again...

I just watched it.

Seeing the sky darken, others came to look for him and helped him to the bed.

Someone brought water.He took a sip, then shook his head.

I thought to myself: It seems that without my hands, he is indeed dying.

but why?

The people outside praised him like that, I originally thought that he should be living a relaxed and happy life at the moment.I even feel that his soul will be covered with the same layer of gray.

But this is all my fault.

I saw a few black-haired and black-eyed teenagers come in, half kneeling on the ground, telling him one by one decree.

Halfway through, he fell asleep.

wrong.

Rather than "asleep", "coma" is more appropriate.

The teenagers also noticed this.They looked at each other, stepped forward helplessly, and covered him with the quilt.

But this doesn't work.He was still icy and cold.If it weren't for the weak breathing, I'm afraid I would also think it was a corpse.

He's still alive, but only barely alive.

The boys left, and I followed them out and listened to what they had to say.

They said, "The priest's health is really getting worse."

They said, "The priest should soon..."

They said, "After the priest dies, alas."

They said, "The priest shouldn't have used magic so much before. If he hadn't used all his magic to save people, he wouldn't have—"

They said: "Do you understand? According to you, why did the priest lead us to overthrow the king! We continue to stay in the temple, and there is nothing wrong with it?"

Their voices rose a little, then fell again.

I listened, listened, and I understood two things.

First, he himself knew that his actions would speed up his death.

Second, as long as "others" can live and live better, he doesn't care if he dies.

I calmed down, the hatred in my heart was still there, but I was much more at a loss.

I couldn't help thinking: He killed me...but he also killed himself.

How can there be such a person?

Is it because he has a pure white soul?

I was at a loss, wandering in the royal court, and saw the laurel tree.

I thought of what he once said: where he lived, there was a laurel tree.

But at that time, he lived in the temple, not like this.

My heart starts beating.After turning into a "person", this piece of meat always has to jump inappropriately.

In a flash, I stood in the temple, looking at the empty tree pit.

He brought the laurel tree outside the window into the royal court.

really weird.

What's even more strange is that I heard other black-haired and black-eyed teenagers say that if he didn't insist on carrying the laurel tree, he might not be as weak as he is now.

I wandered for many days, and finally walked towards him again.

This time, I no longer wanted to humiliate him—of course, the thought didn’t disappear completely, it was just pushed back—I wanted to know what he was thinking.

I sat down beside him.

In the courtyard, he was the only one.

He was lying on the couch, basking in the sun.As I come, darkness spreads, and the sun loses its color.

I raised my hand and stroked his cheek.

He hadn't been this thin before.

I gave him a little magic, and his eyelids trembled again, and he slowly woke up.

He still can't see me.But this time, he noticed something, turned his face slightly, and felt my hand.

I couldn't help smiling, lowered my head, and whispered in his ear: "I'm back."

His body trembled.

I happily thought: According to human drama, at this time, he should cry bitterly and regret endlessly.He will support his weak body and crawl to the ground.Will kneel on the ground and beg my forgiveness, forgiveness.

I've really learned a lot about humans.

But he asked, "Am I dreaming?"

I thought about it and told him, "No."

It was cruel, but he just smiled and said, "It really is a dream."

I:"……"

I feel angry.

As my mood changed, the sky quickly darkened.The darkness spread to the entire royal court. I heard the terrified shouts of others, and "saw" someone pushing others into the pool in order to avoid the chasing darkness.

Humanity.

This is human beings.

Selfish, greedy and shameless human beings.

But he didn't know the changes outside.

He whispered, "Finally see you again...stay with me for a while longer."

I listened, confused.

I asked him, "When did you see me again?"

He was very serious and replied: "After I killed the bishop, after I killed the king."

I was angry: "Who dares to impersonate me?"

who is it? !

Did the guy pretending to be me do anything to him?

I was furious, and the sky was getting darker.

Someone thought of him, wanted to find him, but got lost in the darkness outside.

I listened to everyone's fear, only he, when I was so angry, dared to smile and said: "Oh, and when we broke the first principality..."

Darkness trickled into his clothes.

His voice became chaotic and turned into a whimper.

His speech became intermittent, his pale face turned red, and he asked me, "Why are you angry?"

I don't talk, but concentrate on "checking".

If I want to kill him, I have to kill him myself, how can I get other things.

Only I can make him cry, only I can make him suffer.

He did cry.

The body trembled, and the robe slipped from him.His body arched in an arc, making him look thinner and thinner.

I am slightly relieved: I did not see traces left by other things.What he has on him is still just a faint scent of laurel.

I felt a little upset, and wanted to ask again, but at this time, he passed out again.

I am amazed.

Then, I realized: the little bit of magic I gave him has made him persist until now, which is very rare.

I had a slight headache, but in the end, I still comforted myself: it doesn't matter, he won't die for a while.

I'm away for now.

The darkness faded from the royal court, and the sun shone on everyone again.

The person who was pushed into the pool never came up again, and the teenagers with black hair and black eyes found him.

After all, I was a little bit more thoughtful and remembered to put the robe back on him.

The teenagers were relieved to find that he was fine.

It was several days before I saw him again after that.

The weather was getting hotter, and he was awake longer than before.

I walked up to him and sat down, and he looked at me sideways.

—Oh, of course he couldn't see me with those white eyes.

But he smiled and said softly, "Are you here?"

I looked at him, my eyes slowly falling, looking at the golden shadow in his sleeve.

I said, "You know you can't kill me now, right?"

He paused and said, "I didn't..."

I scoff.

He whispered, "Not really. After that day, they gave me this to defend myself."

I am skeptical of this statement.

He added, "Were you angry that day? Nothing else touched me, I just dreamed about you."

I thought to myself, what does this have to do with me?

"You're still alive," he said.

I was polite and said, "Thank you."

He listened, his face turned paler, and he stopped talking.

I think I still need to explain it clearly to him: "You started the war. This war brought me back to life."

He listened, his eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

"Why?" he asked. "What the hell are you—what?"

I have thought about this question for a long time.

"I don't know," I told him sincerely, "if you want to understand, you can tell me."

He listened, looking helpless.

I said, "Don't you want to kill me?"

He shook his head.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him.

He exhaled slowly and leaned towards me.

I froze.

"I'm so tired," he whispered.

I am silent.

He said, "You're right, I can't kill you again."

I sneered.

"I'm really... very tired," he said.

After saying this, he actually fell asleep.

Really fell asleep, not fainted.

The golden knife slipped from his sleeve and fell on the couch.

I took a look, and the golden knife floated up and rested on his neck.

As long as I think about it, he will die.

However, I had another idea.

For him, living like this seemed to be even more sad.

I want revenge, so it should make him sad more.

So, I briefly made a decision: he can not die, but every day he has more pain than the day before.

The author has something to say: See you later.